Mythical Intervention
by routavaurio
Summary: SEQUEL TO CLASHING WITH LEGENDS. When the Avengers and the Guardians first met, they parted with a tenuous alliance and the belief that their jobs wouldn't need to interfere with each other. But now a new threat forces them to work together again, and both groups might have to compromise their principles and beliefs in order to protect what they have sworn to keep safe.
1. Unrest

**This is a sequel to my previous crossover called ****_Clashing with Legends _****so I'd recommend you read it first. This fic takes place after****_ Iron Man 3 _****and ****_Thor: the Dark World _****but before ****_Captain America: The Winter Soldier. _****The films happening before that one will possibly be referenced and spoilered. There will be some important notes after the chapter so read them if you want to help me find more villains for the story.**

* * *

**1\. Unrest**

Leaves were disturbed from their gentle falling by a gust of wind that sent them tumbling all over the place. It wasn't a friendly sort of wind. It was unforgiving, cold, and angry. Not the sort of breeze to bask in or have a good, calming conversation with. The leaves hit the ground far away from their tree and were almost immediately coated crisp with frost. As soon as it formed, it melted when the temperature went up again, indecisive of whether to be lingering summer or upcoming winter. It was early October, a time when such a thing was not unheard of, but this time it carried an unease that sent animals into hiding in fear of things to come. An unease that swept across lands and did not go unnoticed by anyone with senses sharp enough. Or those with something to sense for them.

Meteorologists all over the world were baffled by the freak weather patterns. Storms and hurricanes shook the coasts even worse than usual, while in some areas people were suffering heatstrokes because of sudden extreme heat waves that had no business in the area at this time. It was as if the weather itself was having a temper tantrum. Some said it was the Apocalypse, some said it was global warming. Some denied either of them ever happening. Some said nothing and just tried to keep living their lives as if nothing was happening. Some really didn't notice anything odd. Some searched for the source, perplexed and without knowing what to look for. And the very few who did know were even more perplexed.

A sudden storm in the middle of Siberia went mostly unnoticed. It was in a fairly empty area, and people were more concerned when the freak weather hit the cities. The storm tore down ancient trees and lightning bolts struck so frequently that for a moment the air was filled with an unbroken stream of rumble that really did sound like some sort of end of the world. Then it was over. So quickly that the forest was left in eerie silence and even the hardiest of bears stayed cowering in their hiding places for hours after the storm had passed.

Bare feet touched one of the broken, fallen trees and frost coated the trunk immediately, almost gently as if soothing it after it had been torn down and burned. The feet continued on through the biggest clearing left by the storm and stopped in the middle. It was far too silent. The forest felt afraid. As it should be. Storms happened, and it was normal, but these storms were fuelled by emotions. A temper tantrum could really have been a good way of describing it, but as Jack Frost realized when he inspected the cowering clearing, the storm itself was fuelled more by apprehension than anger.

It wasn't right. This had to be _her _doing. And _she _didn't get apprehensive without a very good reason. Jack sighed and ran a hand through his snowy white hair. They needed to find her, but she was aggravatingly fast. She hadn't been here long ago, but Jack had just missed her.

"Come on, Wind," he said quietly, mostly just so that the silence was broken for a while.

He hoped Sandy had better luck than him.

* * *

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters were never quiet. There were so many things the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division needed to keep tabs on that it could never take a break. They too were interested in the storms, among other things. At first they had paid no attention to them, but then their energy scanners had picked up something that made them immediately interesting. They had seen this kind of energy before, in an incident S.H.I.E.L.D.'s leader Nicholas Fury didn't remember very fondly. The energy was like what the spirits known as the Guardians generated all the time, but it was all over the place. It was never still enough for them to get a good enough reading of it. And it was just a bit too different. Perhaps it wasn't the Guardians after all. But then, who or what was it?

Fury sat down in his current office. It was in one of their headquarters in Canada, and it wasn't really one of his most well-equipped offices, but it was the closest to where the most recent freak weather patterns had occurred. Fury adjusted his eye patch and frowned at the screen that was filled with a cluster of opened files. Videos, graphs, 3D-models... all trying to illustrate something they couldn't really see. Something that could end up being just really weird weather. Then again, Fury's instincts told him that it would not. As if they didn't have other things to worry about now. Building new Helicarriers, keeping terrorist groups like HYDRA down, Project Insight... they didn't really need to add weather forecasts to the mix.

His gaze strayed to the phone he had on his desk. It was just one of the cell phones he owned and used. This one was sleek and silver-coloured and couldn't be used for calling. It only had one function, and that was sending one-way text messages to only one number. It was a number Fury had never thought he would need to add to his contact lists, but there it was. Had been since the Christmas after the Guardian incident. He had never used it, even though it had come with clear instructions that Fury had burned after he had memorized them. Now he was seriously considering using it. If the Guardians _were _involved... if it _was _going to concern them all... Fury didn't want a repeat of the last time. He picked the phone up but then put it back down. They had managed to coexist without coming into contact for some time now, and that was just fine by Fury. The Guardians and S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't parted in the best of terms. He would double-check things and make sure, then he would contact them, he decided. He turned back to his screen. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Tony Stark looked at Bruce Banner over a plate of shawarma. It was weird, Tony mused, how the most random things could become sort of constant. The shawarma-thing had started after the Chitauri attack, and Bruce and Tony's get-togethers had started a bit later. Maybe it had been because Tony had needed someone to talk to during his worst times. When his post-traumatic stress had become too bad to bear and he had just been a crazy, obsessed Iron Man -suit fetishist. When he had walked through some form of hell and almost lost everything he held dear and in the end realized he didn't need the Iron Man -suit to be Iron Man. Even though Tony felt like he had come to a point in his life where he could start calling that terrible time "the past", some things had stuck. Like Bruce, who had gone from a sort of amateur therapist who couldn't even stay awake during the talks Tony had practically forced on him to just a friend. That one Tony didn't mind at all. Now a simple talk among friends, away from Tony's tower or Bruce's place was a welcome break every now and then.

"You know, I never thought I could like this stuff so much," Tony remarked and lifted the shawarma roll slightly, "And I think this place has been packed ever since we ate here the first time. With all the Avengers assembled, remember that?"

Bruce looked around as if only now noticing that the place didn't have any empty tables left.

"This _is _pretty good," he admitted and took a bite of his food, "So, in a... in a nutshell, how have you been lately? Everything good with Pepper?"

"Yep," Tony said proudly, "She's recovered and we're doing well. This sort of retirement was something that back in the day didn't seem like an option, but now it's like... I was supposed to do it all this time."

Bruce nodded.

"And Pepper's been happy lately too," Tony went on, "Really busy, but happy. I've been thinking of taking her for a vacation one of these days. Soon, hopefully, just the two of us. You know, normal couple stuff after all that crap we've been through. How about you? No green giant episodes? Nothing else weird?"

"I'm doing fine," Bruce said curtly, "The weather's been a little strange, though."

Tony slapped his hand lightly on the table.

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me that we've become two guys with genius level IQs who get together to talk about weather! That's one of _the _most boring subject ever."

"It isn't if it's strange. Or if you analyse it."

"Okay, a fair point. Actually now that you mention it, I picked up some weird readings back in the tower and I think it has something to do with that."

Bruce raised a brow.

"Really? What kind of readings?"

Tony looked around in the packed shawarma joint. The people were minding their own business, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were sharing their lunch-eating space with a doctor who could turn into a giant green man when angry and a billionaire genius who not too long ago had been flying around in a metal suit and saving people. Still, it never hurt to be cautious. Even if Tony figured that he could probably get away with talking crazy stuff. He _was _still recovering from PTSD, after all.

"It's... uh... Guardian-readings," Tony finally said in a low voice, "But we can talk about that later. I don't have much at the moment."

Bruce's eyes widened.

"What?" he whispered.

"Exactly. So... yeah. Weather. Weird stuff, huh?"

As if Tony's words had served as a sort of ill omen, golf ball sized hailstones started falling from the sky, sending even more people into the already full restaurant to seek shelter.

* * *

They waited. It wasn't a very comfortable wait. The silence was awkward and in a room that was usually meant for strategic meetings it felt especially poignant. But this was a strategic meeting, right? They were waiting for intelligence they required to actually plan their next steps. Fury had sent a message to a certain number almost an hour ago, and they didn't really know how long it took for the message to reach the Guardians. Or even if they would respond at all. It was frustrating. Very frustrating. But then again, it was the smartest way of going with it as far as they could see. The last time they had barged into a situation like this they had almost ended up in a war with holiday mascots.

Steven Rogers sat in a corner and tried to pass the time by studying the others in the room. The meeting was very small. Fury, agents Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were in the room with him. Hill was in her place next to Fury, ready to operate one of the many computers in the room. Clint watched the room warily as if expecting one of the Guardians was already there and just hiding in a corner somewhere. Natasha sat next to Steve, and was too focused on waiting to have a conversation, which Steve kind of regretted. He and Natasha had been to a couple of missions together lately, and they had formed what Steve could call friendship. It was always a nice feeling, to have someone to count on. Steve knew everyone thought of him as a nice guy and usually got along okay with him, but in many cases it was more like admiration and politeness. Real friends made Steve feel more like at home. Like he wasn't a super soldier who had been frozen for almost seventy years and then woken up in a world that had gone so much forward without him that he might as well have woken up on a different planet.

No one else had been told of the meeting. They had all agreed to keep any possible contacts to the Guardians as much a secret as possible. It would just raise too many uncomfortable questions otherwise. And wreck their image as a serious organization. Still, Steve hoped the rest of the Avengers wouldn't mind being left out of the loop at the moment. Although to be fair, at least Tony would probably find some way to get wind of this before he was officially told. Steve was fairly sure of it.

The wait ended when a hole opened up in floor in the middle meeting room. Clint tensed just a bit and Fury raised a brow. When a tall, grey rabbit hopped out of the hole, Steve concluded that Fury's message had really reached the Guardians. And they had responded very personally. The Easter Bunny, Bunnymund, stood in the middle of the high tech meeting room and surveyed the people present with a calculating stare that was just distrusting enough to not make anyone comfortable. Without the stare the Easter Bunny might have looked very comical in such an environment, especially when he seemed to be holding a colourful box of chocolates under his arm and there were goggles resting on his forehead. Bunnymund's sweeping stare stopped at the sight of Fury, and he let out a sigh.

"G'day," the bunny said, and it was the least cheery "G'day" Steve had ever heard in his life.

Steve remembered that he had been invited primarily because he was the most friendly with the Guardians out of the Avengers and stood up to respectfully shake Bunnymund's hand... paw.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Bunnymund," he said, as businesslike as one could be when talking to a bunny.

Bunnymund nodded. The hole in the middle of the room closed up as if as an afterthought.

"Glad to see some of you have manners."

"It's good that you responded," Fury said, "There's an urgent matter we need the Guardians' opinion on before we act."

Bunnymund crossed his arms.

"Oh? What would be so important that you need our opinion on it? We've told you your work isn't exactly up our alley. Out with it, and make it quick. I need to get these recipes done by tonight. Ya're lucky I'm in a good mood or I wouldn't even be here. Chocolate?"

It was all said so fast that it took Steve a while to process it. Then he realized the last part was addressed directly to him.

"Um... yes, please," he managed to say when no one else said anything.

Bunnymund regarded Steve appraisingly again. In the background Fury was getting annoyed. Steve could tell it mostly by the man's intensified glare. Otherwise the man looked as professional as ever.

"Ah. Gotcha," Bunnymund said, carefully picked out a beautifully shaped piece of confectionery from his box and handed it to Steve, "Very fine milk chocolate with vanilla and just a bit of blueberry and raspberry in the filling. Okay then, business."

Bunnymund spun around to look at Fury. It was the most bizarre meeting Steve remembered them ever having in the room. Bunnymund seemed so far removed from the killer rabbit persona he exhibited on the battlefield. If it wasn't for the "Don't mess with me" -stare and the familiar Australian accent, Steve would have thought they had got the wrong Easter Bunny.

"The business," Fury said with a slightly impatient edge to his voice, "is this."

He motioned for Hill to bring up a few better screens on their weather pattern analyses. They were projected into the air in three dimensions.

"I don't know if you have noticed the strange shifts in weather all over the Northern hemisphere recently."

Bunnymund looked suddenly very interested.

"Yeah, we've noticed," he said warily, "What's it to you?"

Fury brought up more visuals, this time of energy readings Steve had already seen dozens of times.

"This," Fury simply said.

Bunnymund tilted his head.

"What am I supposed to be lookin' at?"

Fury pointed to the nearest energy reading.

"Energy. Similar but a bit different to what we used to track your group the last time we crossed paths. At first we thought your Frost was acting up, but this is too different. This one isn't any of yours, is it? We need to make sure before we start taking any precautions."

"Make sure?" Bunnymund repeated, "Well, that's an improvement. Or did you already kidnap the source before you contacted us?"

Fury deliberately ignored the comment.

"Do you know what the source is?" he just asked.

Bunnymund looked thoughtful. Steve took a bite of the chocolate before it melted in his hand. His taste buds started immediately doing a happy dance.

"Yes," Bunnymund finally said.

"This is the best chocolate I've ever tasted!" Steve blurted out.

There was a pressing silence when Fury looked very pointedly at Steve, who tried very hard not to blush in embarrassment. Bunnymund, however, looked pleased.

"Of course it is," he said smugly, "I don't usually just hand 'em out like that, but like I said, I'm in a good mood. And it's good to find some test subjects for the latest batch."

"What is the source?" Fury repeated.

Bunnymund looked at the readings again.

"Someone who doesn't usually do this," he said, "Don't worry. She's not... wicked. Kind of above all that nonsense, really. We have Frostbite and Sandy on the case. They're tracking her down as we speak. We think a good talk will straighten things right out."

"Her?" Natasha asked, "Who exactly is she?"

Bunnymund sighed.

"Ya're not going to leave this be without too many answers, are ya? You humans are always too bloody curious for your own good. Not that it matters. Ya won't be able to find her if she doesn't want to be found."

He sighed.

"She's Mother Nature."

Silence again. Fury massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Do we have to start assuming every possible fairytale character will start acting up at some point?"

Bunnymund snorted.

"Ya've dealt with magic before. Don't be too surprised. Some people ya're friends withcould be called fairy tales. Just because you can explain weather doesn't mean there can't be someone behind it."

"So what should we do about her?" Steve asked.

"Nothing. And I _mean _it so ya'd better believe it this time. We'll straighten this out. Just focus on warning people of the nasty weather, if that feels like your thing.

"Where is she now?" Fury crossed his arms.

"We don't know yet," Bunnymund admitted, "But we're looking, and you can bet we'll find her soon. Now was that all? 'Cause I need to go back to my chocolates. It's only five months 'till Easter."

He looked almost challengingly at everyone in the room. Fury slowly shook his head.

"That's all. Thank you for your time."

"No worries," Bunnymund said and thumped his foot on the floor. The hole opened up again, swallowing up Bunnymund and the box of the best chocolates in the world. Fury shook his head again, this time a bit more determinedly than before. He signalled Hill to switch off the screens.

"We'll continue keeping an eye on this. Now we have an idea of what we're looking for."

"Bunnymund did say that they are on it," Steve pointed out.

"I know," Fury said, "But we have to make sure this doesn't become our business as well. Barton, Romanoff, Rogers, you're dismissed, but stay alert. Hill, you come with me. We still have a lot to do, and I need to take a call from Pentagon."

They stood up to leave the meeting room. On the way outside, Natasha crouched down to pick a flower from where it had inexplicably grown through the seams of the polished floor tiles. She pocketed it and Steve could only assume it would end up somewhere where flowers occurred naturally. No need to leave evidence of the Easter Bunny's visit to one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highly guarded facilities.

* * *

**Author's Note: So some time ago I wrote a thing called ****_Clashing with Legends _****and quite a lot of people enjoyed it. A lot of you have asked me to write a sequel to that, and I have answered to everyone who have asked that I would not write a sequel in more or less certain words. Now first of all I have to say that I am very sincerely, deeply sorry for that, because as you can see, I'm back (and I'm extra-special sorry if I ****_didn't _****answer your questions; I really try to answer every review that asks me something and most of the others as well to the best of my ability and time). I really didn't plan on writing this but then lately these ideas started buzzing and growing in my head and I guess the weather has been so unbearably hot these last few weeks that my brain melted and I typed this. So here we are, and I'm kind of excited by this brain-melt-induced sequel idea.**

**Okay, now an important thing: I have some ideas of how this will play out but there is not a very set chain of events in my mind yet like I had when writing the first crossover, so updates won't probably be as frequent. Second and most important: I NEED A VILLAIN! Or at least one more villain; I have some in mind. I am going with Avengers-villains this time so if there's someone from the Avengers -comics you'd like to see going against the film!Avengers and the Guardians then tell me! I might make that wish come through and get help shaping my story. I would prefer to find a tech/schience-based villain from Earth to go with the ones I already have in mind. Now you need to realize that I have never read a single Marvel comic book as far as I know and one might say that writing fanfics while taking elements from something I haven't read is a terrible idea and I tend to agree with that. I have done a lot of research already and I will be doing more but I know, it isn't the same. So if you think that I shouldn't be writing this at all or if I'm writing someone/something horribly, terribly wrong, TELL ME AND I WILL BE VERY GRATEFUL! I will do my best to fix my mistakes. If this whole thing will become unfixable, I'll just scrap this and we'll still have that other crossover story by me that people seemed to like so... yeah. All other feedback is also very, very welcome.**

**All right, I'm ready for a possible train wreck of a fic and I'm trying to make it not train-wrecky to the best of my abilities. I hope I'll manage to entertain at least someone. :)**


	2. Assassin

**This chapter introduces us to our first more or less major villain, the Taskmaster. He was suggested by Kagirinai. Thanks a lot for that!**

* * *

**2\. Assassin**

"I can't believe you haven't told me about Mother Nature before!"

Jamie Bennett glared at Jack almost accusingly, but the effect was kind of negated by the excited gleam in the boy's brown eyes.

"Yeah, well, I honestly don't know that much about her," Jack admitted, "She usually doesn't do much so..."

"But you know I want to know _all _about the mythical stuff!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Jack sat down on the back of the park bench Jamie was sitting on and gave the boy a mischievous smile, "Is that enough? Or is this a drama that's going to ruin our friendship forever?"

Jamie's young face spread into a grin.

"Well no, duh. Just as long as you remember to tell me next time you guys do something exciting."

"It's not very exciting, really. We haven't even found her. Hey, are those muffins made by your mom?"

Jack pointed at the plastic box that Jamie had brought with him and that housed two golden brown muffins.

"Yeah. Want one? Careful, they have all sorts of pumpkin seeds and stuff in them. Mom's having this health obsession time right now. They should still be pretty good, though."

Jack grabbed a muffin from the box. It was almost fresh from the oven and still warm. For about three seconds until his touch caused it to frost over, anyway. Jack took a bite before it froze all the way through. The centre was warm, and the outside was pleasantly cold. Perfect. Taking a break in Burgess had been a great idea.

"So what are you going to do now?" Jamie asked, "About Mother Nature, I mean."

Jack shrugged.

"Talk to her, as soon as we find her. She usually doesn't want anyone to butt into her business, but she'll probably talk to Sandy. Sandy and her go way back. I'm mostly helping him to cover more ground."

"So Mother Nature doesn't like you? Jamie guessed.

Jack laughed a bit nervously.

"I tried to pull a prank on her once. Not my brightest moment. She has real nasty temper. I think it was the first time I was ever struck by lightning. After that we've just... done our own jobs and left each other alone. It has worked out so far."

"Weird," Jamie mumbled, turning a muffin in his hands, "I'd have thought she was like your boss or something."

"Boss?" Jack suddenly jumped into a standing position, swinging his crooked shepherd's staff onto his shoulders and doing his best to look impressive and offended at the same time. It was easier said than done when one was stuck looking like a scrawny teenager, "You think I, Jackson Overland Frost, would listen to some lady just because she has weather powers that aren't limited to just one season? No. She does what she wants, I do what I want. She can have her storms and whatnot, but winters, blizzards... they are _my_ thing. Mostly."

He was fairly proud of his little speech. Jamie was still grinning.

"Okay, I get it. Speaking of blizzards, when are we going to get a snow day?"

"Not for a while, kiddo. It's October so I'm just starting to cool this place down. You know that."

Jamie sighed.

"Yeah... I just wish winter came sooner so you'd hang out with us more."

Jack knew Jamie wasn't trying to guilt trip him, but he felt guilty nonetheless. He knew he had been busy elsewhere, making new believers, doing his job... and now he had to track down Mother Nature as well. It was always difficult being apart from his believers. Especially the Burgess kids who had been the first ones. He knew he shouldn't pick favourites too much, but every Guardian knew that first believers were special. And Jamie especially was such a great kid. Like a little brother. Who was getting less and less little all the time. Jack forced those thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time to worry about loss. Jamie was still in elementary school. The time when he became an adult was somewhere far away in the future. He smiled at Jamie again and spun his staff around a couple of times to coax the first snowflakes of that year's winter in Burgess to fall lazily into the park. Jamie caught one of them into his hand and laughed.

* * *

Clint Barton went through the last few days in his head while he got ready for his assignment. Aside from the Mother Nature -news, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Well, nothing out of the ordinary by their standards. But then again, they had fought aliens alongside a green giant and a Norse God, so they probably weren't the best people to determine what normal was. Clint carefully picked out some of his trick arrowheads and loaded them into his quiver. His assignment was a routine one for him. Basic reconnaissance in an area where they had picked up signs of suspicious technology and possible signs of illicit military operations. It wasn't anything major. In fact, Clint had volunteered mostly because he wanted something to do. It had been quiet lately, and besides being an agent, there wasn't a whole lot else in Clint's life, to be honest. He had been allowed to go, but with warnings that this might be a waste of his skills. Which it probably was. Still, something was bothering Clint about this, making his instincts ring alarm bells. He didn't really know why. Maybe he should just let it go for the moment and focus on the mission. He grabbed his collapsible bow and headed out.

He was driven to a forested location near the border between USA and Canada. It wasn't tactically a very good hiding place for a possible terrorist group. A bit too close to one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s own operation bases. Not that outsiders could find that out easily. Clint stepped out of the car when it stopped long before they reached their destination and continued on foot. The woods were decidedly not quiet. Nature never really was. Clint kept his eyes and ears sharp and tried to discern possible out-of-place sounds from the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves. He adjusted the small microphone he had in the collar of his dark-coloured combat vest. Deputy director Hill was on the other end of the radio all the time, just like she was on the other end of several other radios. Hill was probably pulling quadruple duty as mission control in their most covert operations. Clint muttered a few words into the mike to indicate he was in the destination and en route to a better vantage point. He trekked through the forest without using any existing paths and quickly arrived to the glen they had flagged as suspicious. He used the trees and undergrowth as cover and found his vantage point on a hill with a good view to the place.

A small structure, a bunker made mostly of metal and wood, was very well hidden among the trees, but Clint's sharp eyes, aided by binoculars, could pick it out no problem.

"Okay, I see it," he said in a barely audible voice, "Well hidden, no activity outside yet. I can see some signs of that technology our satellites picked up."

"_Can you get closer?" _Hill's radio-distorted question echoed into Clint's earpiece.

"Of course."

Clint crept towards the building, as alert as he possibly could. If there was anyone in there, they hadn't seemed to have noticed that an agent was so close to their base, but it never hurt to be cautious. Clint froze in place when someone dressed in camouflage gear stepped out from behind the building's corner.

"One soldier outside," Clint said, "Basic camouflage gear, carries a pistol, no other visible weapons. Wait..."

He zoomed in on the gun at the man's waist. It wasn't anything available in regular gun shops. In fact, it looked suspiciously like...

"Hang on, I'm sending you visual of the gun."

He practically heard Hill's concentrated stare when he sent the images through.

"_That looks like one of our R'n'D projects," _Hill stated after an audible silence.

"That's what I thought too. Is this a really weird coincidence or do we have a leak somewhere?"

"_Neither option is likely. Something isn't right. We need more information."_

"This could become much more than a routine operation."

"_Then it's good we sent you, Hawkeye."_

Clint nodded quietly, even though he knew Hill couldn't see it. This was... interesting. Clint couldn't say he was told about all of S.H.I.E.L.D's more experimental projects, but even he had seen some of the prototypes of the weapons one of this unknown soldier seemed to be carrying. It had been one of the models they had designed with the infinite power source of the ancient Tesseract in mind, and it had been meant to fire energy slugs that would both shock and burn the target. These had to be modified versions, though. The Tesseract wasn't on Earth any longer. And how had these people got wind of the weapons in the first place? It was troubling to say the least. Hill was right: they needed more information. They had to set up surveillance, figure out what was going on, and...

Clint's instincts suddenly alerted him that something was wrong. He automatically drew his bow and crouched even lower in his hiding spot.

"_Is something wrong?"_

"Not yet," Clint muttered, "But might be soon. I'm going radio silent."

He then switched off his link to mission control and focused fully on his surroundings. At first, he couldn't hear or see anything out of the ordinary – save for the mysterious bunker about a hundred feet to his left – but he had long ago learned to at least check his surroundings carefully whenever his instincts went on high alert. He watched and listened, and eventually the normal sounds of nature gave way to something that didn't belong there. Just for a second, but that second was enough. Someone was approaching him. Someone fast and stealthy, but not good enough to fool him. Clint's fingers brushed one of his arrows, and he waited for a while longer before drawing it. The arrowhead was basically a capsule that contained tear gas. It wasn't exactly harmful, but it would incapacitate almost anyone effectively for some time. Unless someone had decided to go for a stroll in the forest wearing a gas mask. Unlikely, but hey, one could never know.

Clint moved from his spot when he heard a crunch of leaves that could have been innocent, but wasn't. He turned silently and aimed his bow to the trees at his right. Nothing. An amateur might have relaxed at that. If Clint had been an amateur, he might have died three seconds later when a bullet from a silenced handgun shot from the bushes. Clint moved so that the projectile only grazed his side. The bulletproof vest he was wearing would need to be replaced, but that was way better than having his head splattered all over the undergrowth. Clint let his dodge continue into a controlled fall and he was back on his feet when someone fast and strong leaped out of the bushes. Clint aimed his bow, leading the quick target and let the tear gas fly. It struck the attacker in the shoulder with enough force to stop their charge. The tear gas was released and Clint quickly stepped back to not get caught in it. That was when the attacker stopped for long enough for Clint to notice two things. One: the attacker was clearly an athletic man wearing some sort of combat armour that didn't fit into the dress code of anyone except superheroes – or supervillains. Two: said outfit came with a face-concealing mask that seemed to do a good job at keeping the tear gas out. Figures. Time for some a bit more offensive arrows, then.

Clint took even more distance and prompted his quiver to select a regular, sharp arrowhead. Deadly if aimed right, crippling if aimed right in a slightly different way. He would go with crippling. Clint set the arrow on the bowstring and took aim when his opponent was still staggered from the blow to the shoulder. He targeted the man's weapon arm again. He let go. The masked man saw the arrow, but he shouldn't have enough time to dodge. He didn't. But he did have time to _catch _it. Hawkeye blinked. It was becoming very obvious that his opponent wasn't just a regular guy in a silly suit. The man flung the arrow away and raised his gun. For a second the waning sunlight reflected on the man's metallic mask and made it look more menacing than it really was. Considering it was designed to look like a skull, the effect was admittedly rather intimidating. Clint slipped behind a tree for cover and went through tactics in his head as quickly as his quiver was going through arrowheads in search of the right one. Bullets cracked the bark near Clint's head and Clint spun from one cover to the next, shooting an arrow at the man on the way. It was a quick shot, hopefully too quick for the man to react in _any _way this time.

The arrow glanced off the man's shoulder guard. Clint switched covers again and opened his radio link back to Hill.

"Problems," he grunted.

"_What is it, Hawkeye?"_

"I was attacked."

"_What?" _Hill sounded disbelieving.

"I know, I know," Clint crouched low to avoid another bullet, "I'm taking him down and leaving. Or should I get more intel?"

"_Is he from the bunker?"_

"I don't know. I'll call when the situation has calmed down a bit."

The man zigzagged towards Clint, clearly trying to make Clint's aiming difficult. Clint fired anyway, keeping his hands steady and his head clear. He had faced Norse gods, aliens, and literal nightmares, so a masked commando wasn't going to throw him off-guard. The next arrow hit the man in the right arm, and the man went down with a muffled shout. Clint folded his bow but didn't put it away and sprinted from his cover. When the attacker went down to his knees, Clint was already close enough to drop the man all the way to the ground with a well-placed kick. He caught the man's armoured, muscular arm and twisted it. He didn't quite get it into a proper hold before the man broke loose, freeing his arm and aiming a very well practised palm strike at Clint's face. Clint threw his arm up to prevent his nose from meeting his brain and was sent tumbling onto his back from the force of the blow. The fallen autumn leaves crunched under him when he got back up and saw the man running away with speed that could easily have earned him a medal in the Olympics. He left behind a trail of blood that Clint could easily follow until it suddenly ended. The attacker had probably managed to patch himself up on the go. Clint took a deep breath and stopped to listen again. Soft rustles and crunches were steadily getting away. Just when Clint was about to go into hunting mode, he heard commotion near the base. People were gathering outside. Someone was pulling out a pair of binoculars. Hawkeye flattened himself against he ground and sighed.

"He's getting away, but the people in the bunker are starting to get suspicious. If I don't leave now, I'll risk the entire mission."

He knew the mission hadn't gone the way it was supposed to. Not even close. Clint couldn't say he liked it. He should have been a professional. More prepared for situations like this.

"_Get out of there before they start coming out in force," _Hill said, _"Let's hope this doesn't scare them away yet. We'll continue watching with just the satellites for now."_

Hawkeye nodded needlessly again and slipped away unnoticed by the searching soldiers. Defeated, he started his trek back. He was told he would be picked up half a mile from his current location. It was a short walk, but it gave him some time to think. The attacker had almost come out of nowhere. He couldn't remember them ever having any talk of a masked fighter like that. And how had he even found Clint here in the wilderness? Was he working with the people in the bunker? They needed to know more. The phrase of the day, it seemed. So much for routine missions. Clint had a feeling Fury wouldn't be too pleased of yet another addition to the list of things they needed to worry about.

* * *

They said that the Boogeyman lived under the bed. And they were right, in a way. It was mostly his own little joke, putting an old bed on top of the main entrance to his domain. In reality, Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, lived deep underground. He had shaped his realm during his centuries of hiding and occasional larger scale attack. He had got it right ages ago, after arduously crafting the shifting, Escher style corridors and decorated them with nightmares and darkness. That sounded more poetic if one didn't know it was literally what most of his décor consisted of. Usually his lair was alive with occasional minions, his Fearlings made of fear and shadow moving about in search of dreams to devour. Now it was much quieter, the Fearlings were sluggish, and Pitch's beloved army of Nightmare horses had been reduced to one.

Pitch Black was not happy. He sat in a shadow in his lair, letting the darkness and solitude give him strength. It didn't make him feel much better, though. He was hungry. The dreams he had managed to turn into nightmares, the fear he had scraped together in the last few months had barely made him strong enough to stay in solid form. Ever since the Guardians and the Avengers had defeated him in New York, the damned Guardians had been vigilant to the point of obsession. Pitch had been sneaking through the shadows, avoiding the Sandman's deadly light and sickeningly happy dreamsand, cursing his luck. Sure, he had faced hard times before, but the last time he had been defeated this badly twice in quick succession had been centuries ago. It hurt his pride. And just plain hurt.

His only remaining Nightmare trotted over to him, whinnying affectionately. Pitch patted her shadowy flank, noting with distaste that his fingertips still looked a bit intangible. He sighed. A few of his Fearlings scattered into the looping corridors of his home, almost as if they had something important to do. The truth was that Pitch wasn't really planning anything that would require any work from his minions at the moment. He was too tired, too starving for anything grander than just a few amateur dream capers. The Fearlings soon returned, nervously fluttering about and whispering something about an intruder. Pitch was up in a second and forced himself to forget about self-pity for the moment. Had someone sneaked in? Without him noticing? He _really_ was losing his touch. He concentrated, letting his senses spread outwards through the shadows, and found a familiar presence. Familiar, and very unexpected.

"You?" he asked hoarsely when she stepped into his view, partly out of exhaustion, partly because of the sorrow welling up in him.

His guest didn't waste time for greetings.

"The earth is concerned," she said instead, "And I know someone is hiding from me. From everyone, I'd think."

"From you?" Pitch asked, "There's someone even you can't find?"

Her eyes were steely. They hurt him.

"They must be powerful and clever to do that indeed. But someone who hides is always afraid. If nothing else then of discovery."

"So you came to ask my help?" Pitch might have laughed if it had been anyone else he was talking to, "I'm honoured."

"And I'm desperate," she said icily, and the temperature in Pitch's lair dropped further, "I have searched everywhere, but I haven't found them. I know you have been sneaking about. And I see an assassin preying on the ones who helped the Guardians defeat you in New York. Is there anything you know about this?"

"I don't have anything to do with assassins," Pitch said, almost offended, "But I know _of_ him. He has amusing fears. I might know who he works for too. And _that _guy keeps some very interesting company."

"So who hired him? And what kind of company does this man keep?"

He could sense she was growing impatient. He probably shouldn't push his luck just to keep her in his company a while longer, even though he wanted nothing more than to sit her down and ask her how she was and if time had treated her well. So he told her what he knew. She hummed thoughtfully and then huffed in irritation.

"Of course! Those damned Asgardians..."

"What are you going to do about it?"

She didn't answer. Instead she stormed off as if staying in Pitch's lair a second longer made her want to destroy something. Which was probably exactly how she felt. Pitch unclenched his semi-tangible fists and let out a long, unhappy sigh. Sometimes he didn't even know why he cared. Then he remembered again, if remembering was what the foggy echoes from so long ago could be called.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to dig out information on Barton's attacker. Not that it made Fury much happier. Things just didn't seem to go their way. Although, they rarely did. That was why they existed. To keep people safe when things went to hell. They had all accepted it when they had signed up.

Barton hadn't been seriously injured during the mission, and he had even managed to get a few pictures of the attacker. The armour and the mask were very distinct, and they had been recognized after some searching.

"An assassin, known as the Taskmaster," Hill read out loud from the screen where the masked man's profile had been opened, "Real identity unknown. Nothing major on his record so far. Minor hits, never anything big enough to warrant our attention more than this one file."

"Until now."

"Until now," Hill admitted.

Fury ran a hand over his scalp.

"An assassin, attacking near people who were carrying weaponry possibly stolen from us. Targeting an Avenger. I think we just got a new priority."

"Do you think the Taskmaster attacked Hawkeye to defend the base?" Hill wondered, "Or was Clint singled out because he was an Avenger? We have had other agents near the base, and they have never been attacked."

Fury's brow creased. Hill had a point.

"We need more intel," he said finally, "For now, we just go with what we have and we'll be even more on our guard from now on."

He turned to leave the office.

"Track their movements as far as you can," he added when he reached the doorway, "I want that base watched twenty-four/seven. Get someone to check if there are leaks in our system, or if something has been broken into. I also want more info on Taskmaster. And if he turns up again I want Romanoff after him."

"Will be done," Hill said, "Should we inform the rest of the Avengers about the Taskmaster just in case?"

"Yes. Do that as well."

"I will."

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, the news of this sequel were super well received. Now I'm feeling the pressure especially since I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh, well. I have villains now, thanks to you guys because you are awesome! And Taskmaster won't be the only villain in this. I'd appreciate it if you kept any kind of feedback coming because that would really help me get better. Someone tell me if my depiction of Taskmaster was awfully off (although he didn't do much yet so...)! Or not.**

**See you later. Sometime. When I can sort out this fic further.**


	3. Shots in the Dark

**3\. Shots in the Dark**

"Yes, what is it?"

...

"Really? Interesting."

...

"No, of course I didn't know. You've debugged the system the last time I was there."

…

"Hey, I retired from Iron Manning, not from sanity."

…

"Alright. I'll keep that in mind."

Tony lowered his cell phone when the steady beep told him that Hill had hung up after a hasty goodbye.

He leaned back in his office chair that had cost more than what the salespeople in the furniture retailer made in a year. He glared at the holographic designs he had been working on without really seeing anything except glowing lines. He was too deep in thought. Hill's news were a bit troubling, but mostly interesting. True to the usual conduct of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hill had been tight-lipped about the extent of their problems, but Tony was so far in the inside circles that he had been informed that S.H.I.E.L.D. might have a security leak and that an assassin might be targeting people the Avengers Initiative had brought together. It was a couple of "mights" too many. Tony was the kind of person to turn subjunctives into indicatives, to want to search for better solutions even when others put their hands up and said "it's as good as we can make it." That was what had made him so good at discovering technological breakthroughs and making a crapload of money in the process.

Now Tony had retired from the suit and the shrapnel, and he knew Hill's warning had just been to make sure he wouldn't be as easily taken by surprise if the assassin really did decide to come after him. But Tony figured he could use his spare time for additional research and save S.H.I.E.L.D. some trouble. He would have to put his latest tech design on hold, as well as his little side project of figuring out how mythical spirits came to be, but he supposed it would be worth it. He would be helping his friends, after all.

He thought about the assassin. "The Taskmaster", according to Hill. A silly name, but Tony had to admit that silliness kind of was in the job description of both superheroes and supervillains – if this Taskmaster really was one. Did a mask and a gimmick automatically make one "super" anyway? Tony hummed amusedly at the thought and then switched off the blueprint hologram. He opened one of his slightly less futuristic computers and got to work. He had some favours to ask. And quite a few systems to hack.

"Tony? Who just called?"

Oh, right. Tony should have expected something like this wouldn't stay secret from Pepper Potts for too long. He heard Pepper's high heels clicking to a stop at the door.

"It was Hill," Tony said, "Apparently Clint was attacked by an assassin and she wanted to let me know."

"What?" Pepper asked, more worried than surprised, "Never a break with these kinds of things, then?"

From the almost nonchalance of Pepper's question, Tony figured she had been around him for too long. And he had been around weirdness for too long. When a surprise attack by an assassin became as likely as the toast falling butter-side down, something was maybe a bit wrong with your life.

"Breaks have been on short supply lately, I know," he said

"So what are you doing now?"

Pepper looked over Tony's shoulder at the computer screens, and Tony could almost heard Pepper put two and two together in a nanosecond. He tried his best to ignore Pepper's mildly disapproving look. It wasn't easy. Ignoring Pepper was one of the hardest feats Tony could think of, mostly because he never _wanted _to ignore her. She was simply too important for him.

"I'd guess you were warned about this assassin so that you would lay low instead of starting to poke around all sorts of files to track him down."

Tony looked back at Pepper when her a little too reasonable comment broke his train of thought. Pepper was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and her grey eyes drilling holes into Tony in a very calm, friendly way. It was an expression only Pepper could pull off. She had her reddish blonde hair down and she was wearing a dark blue blouse with a matching skirt, looking both sharp and sexy in Tony's opinion.

"I'm not looking for him so I could challenge him to a fist fight," Tony said a bit defensively, "If I happen to find anything I'll just relay it to Fury."

Pepper's stare intensified a bit.

"I'm serious!" Tony said, "And yeah... fine. I'll get some actual work done, too."

Pepper sighed.

"I'm not here to order you around. Not right now anyway. I just want you to remember that you're still recovering."

"So are you," Tony said quietly, instinctively looking Pepper over for any possible side effects their latest battle could have left on her. She had been kidnapped and injected with a virus that boosted people's physical abilities and made them able to regenerate insanely fast with the downside that it could make them also explode. Tony had to remind himself for the thousandth time that Pepper was stable now, had been for months with no side effects. Still, Tony couldn't just let go of the fear that he would wake up one day and find his girlfriend in pieces all over their penthouse. He shuddered at the thought and tried to shoo it out of his head.

"I'll just check a few things, then get back on track."

Pepper's hand brushed Tony's shoulder, and Tony put his hand over hers. He squeezed her hand and tried to ground himself with the knowledge that Pepper was okay and right there. With him. Usually it worked. This time it didn't.

* * *

Sanderson Mansnoozie, the Sandman, was a busy legend. He, just like the Tooth Fairy, worked every night. And there was always night somewhere on Earth. He had got used to the routine a long time ago. Well, he himself wouldn't call it routine. He loved his job because dreams were always exciting, inspiring and unexpected even to him. It had been his job to deliver the sweetest of those dreams ever since he had crash landed on Earth all those centuries ago. Now he was even busier than usual, seeing how he also needed to both watch for signs of Pitch Black, and find Emily Jane, whom mortals called Mother Nature.

Sandy sailed across the night sky on his golden cloud of dreamsand, never stopping his work on the delicate but powerful dreams that circled around him for a few playful laps before diving down to find the sleeping people below. He sent a couple of inspirational birds of paradise and an exciting three-headed dog down and then looked further up into the sky. There were shiny night clouds in there, and a crisp chill in the air. Sandy knew this chill was Jack Frost's doing, and not left by Emily Jane. Young Jack's cold was more playful and his snowstorms were fierce and untamed. Emily Jane was much more melancholic and controlled, except when she got angry. And it was rare that she would stray into Jack's territory and start an actual blizzard. Sandy was grateful to Jack. The boy was taking so much of his time to help Sandy search. Toothiana was far too busy with teeth, and both Bunnymund and North were more bound to the ground. Besides, Jack knew the winds better than even Sandy did, which had proven to be an invaluable asset now that Emily Jane had shielded herself from almost everyone but nature itself. Jack had many times almost got her just by conversing with the winds. But she had slipped away every time. Whether it had been by choice or by coincidence, Sandy wasn't sure yet. He needed to find out. Emily Jane was aloof, and they had perhaps grown apart too much, but Sandy wanted to think of her as his friend. Even though they hadn't talked in decades and Sandy should probably be more formal and think of her as Mother Nature instead of by her name. Still, she _was _a friend, and friends helped when something was bothering the other.

Sandy had just finished weaving an especially intricate dream that the child it was going to would transform into something even more complex when the wind picked up, biting Sandy's fingertips cheerfully. Jack Frost dropped from the air and landed on Sandy's dreamsand cloud. The boy looked excited and judging by his hair that was even more windswept than usual, he had been flying to Sandy as fast as the wind could take him. Jack's bright blue eyes were alight with childish glee.

"I found her!" he proclaimed, "C'mon! We need to hurry!"

Sandy gave a thumbs-up and then formed a question mark above his head with his dreamsand.

"She's near the Himalayas," Jack said, pointing towards the mountaintops in the distance, "Not too far from here. C'mon!"

Sandy followed the excited young spirit, transforming his dreamsand cloud into an aeroplane to keep up with the boy. Jack led him all the way to some of the lower mountains of the Himalayas, a place with views Sandy hadn't got tired of even after all his years of circling the globe. Mountains after mountains, with snowy slopes Jack had no doubt had some hand in decorating. In the midst of the mountains floated a mass of clouds, and Jack pointed at it.

"See her?"

Sandy nodded. Emily Jane hadn't changed at all from the last time he had seen her. Not that it was anything unusual with people like them. She stood in the air in the middle of the clouds and looked down at the mountaintops. Her hair floated in all directions with the air currents, her robes flared majestically around her, and her eyes sparked with recognition when she saw them.

"Sanderson. Jackson," she said curtly, "You have been following me for weeks. What is it you want from me?"

_We think you know already_, Sandy mimed at her. Emily Jane nodded.

"You wish to talk to me. But why?"

"You've been messing with weather" Jack spoke up, crossing his arms, "That's got everyone on edge. Did you think we wouldn't do something about it?"

_We were worried about you_, Sandy added.

"Don't get all familiar on me, Jackson," Mother Nature said, "And you definitely aren't one to talk about messing around with things. As for you, Sanderson: there is nothing wrong with me."

_But you are worried._

"Of course I am. Haven't you sensed it?"

"Sensed what?" Jack asked.

Mother Nature raised her hand, combing her fingers through the air that warmed up at her touch.

"The boundaries of this world have weakened," she said, "Now all sorts of creatures have broken through. The Chitauri, the Asgardians... and that's not all. The Earth can feel it. Somewhere out there is yet another uninvited entity with their sights set on Earth."

Sandy frowned. He knew what Emily Jane spoke of. He had felt it too. The tiny tears in reality that came about when too much foreign forces strained Earth. It wasn't unheard of. Aliens had come here before; Sandy was one of them, though he hadn't arrived by choice. Just like Mother Nature herself. But before these last couple of years, everything had been quiet for centuries.

"Old Man Thor has been taking care of those otherworldly guys pretty well, and he's staying on Earth now," Jack said, but Sandy could hear even the boy wasn't ignorant of the tearing reality, "The other Avengers haven't been too shabby either. You think they can't handle it?"

"They might," Mother Nature admitted, "But it doesn't matter. I am not about to let anyone else come here and start another fight again. Humans fight amongst themselves enough as it is."

_What are you going to do?_

"Some have come through again. Asgardians, who hide very well. I am going to find them and then drive them off before they can cause trouble."

Sandy and Jack exchanged glances.

"There are Asgardians here? Other than Thor?"

"It seems that way," Emily Jane said bitterly, "They have caused nothing but trouble lately."

_If that's the case, you should probably let Thor take them back_, Sandy reasoned.

Emily Jane seemed to consider this. Sandy was surprised. He hadn't expected her to listen to him so easily, even after everything they had been through in the past.

"That does sound sensible," she finally admitted, "I... thank you, Sanderson. Perhaps I will tell him. You don't have to get involved in this."

Sandy had known she would say that. Mother Nature worked on her own whims, alone with the world. She turned to leave, then halted for another thoughtful moment before speaking again:

"I will try to keep the weather calm."

There was an undercurrent of regret in her voice. Maybe she had let the weather rage freely when she had searched for the Asgardians that seemed to vex her quite a bit. Maybe she just hadn't realized just how much the effects had been noticed. She departed with the clouds, leaving Jack and Sandy above the mountains.

"You think she'll settle the weather now?" Jack asked.

Sandy nodded.

_She doesn't want to be feared, _he messaged, taking great care to form every image clearly.

"Right. Should we be more worried about those Asgardians?"

Sandy shrugged thoughtfully. Perhaps they should at least be on their guard. They would have to inform North, Tooth, and Bunny about this. It was time for a Guardian meeting.

* * *

When Thor Odinson had first been sent to Earth, he would have never imagined he would like it enough to one day want to stay. He was an Asgardian, similar in appearance but so different in nature than humans. Humans were fragile and did not know magic. Some of them had worshipped the Asgardians as gods. But Thor had to admit that he had come to see the beauty of Earth, of humans, in no small part thanks to the lovely Jane Foster, who now slept peacefully in the home Thor shared with her. He could hardly believe his father had let him have this life. He should have become the new king of Asgard, in a time that seemed so long ago now, but instead of a palace and power he had chosen love and a house in a suburb. His fellow protector of the Earth, Mr. Stark, had called it clichéd. That was a bit insulting in Thor's opinion.

Right now, Thor could not sleep. It wasn't because of stress or noise or any other thing the humans usually complained about. Well, if he had to pick he would go with the noise. The Earth did sound a lot different from his home. But he had got used to the Earth sounds easily enough. What really troubled him now was more a specific call than random sounds. Something, or someone, clearly wished to talk to him. He had been standing for an hour at the window of his new home, staring outside as if he could drag the caller in with just a thought. He knew it wouldn't happen, though. He had no power that could do that. He spared a glance at the bedroom behind him, watching the quiet rise and fall of the bed covers. Whatever the call was about, it was probably meant only for him. Jane didn't seem to have been disturbed. He hesitated briefly and finally gave in. He threw a jacket over his nightclothes, put on his shoes and silently opened the front door.

The call led him to one of the parks near his home. The park was serene and empty in the night, but Thor didn't allow himself to lower his guard. He still did not know who had called him, and that made it even more suspicious. It wasn't anyone of his family, that was for sure. It wasn't any of the heroes he had fought with in the past – their way of messaging was far different. This was magic so subtle that humans couldn't discern it from the air they breathed, yet it was everywhere. And it had called him. Why? He was not about to let go of it until he found out.

Thor stopped walking when he came into a thicket of trees at the edge of the park. It was still dead silent, but in front of him he could see the air solidifying into a shape. She wore the clouds, the nature around her as simple but elegant robes. Her black hair was not completely separated from the air, but faded ethereally into it. Her eyes were bright and hard, and her mouth was set into a grim line. Thor was taken aback. Not so much by her grave expression as by simply her being there. It couldn't be... could it?

"Gaia?" he whispered.

She tilted her head, irritation evident on her pale, coldly beautiful face. A gust of wind blew through the park.

"No," she said in a voice that echoed in the leaves and in the wind, "There is something you should know, Mr. Odinson."

* * *

Tony had finally left his work for a moment in order to take Pepper out for dinner. It was the least he could do after once again realizing Pepper had managed to get most of his problems for the week solved while he had struggled with something more pointless. Like finding clues about the assassin named the Taskmaster. There was something that bothered Tony about the case. He had found out very quickly that the "security leak" meant that someone had stolen weapon designs. By using legitimate agent's codes, which indicated the possibility of someone going rogue. The codes were from a KIA agent whose apparent death and the first sightings of the Taskmaster were suspiciously close to one another. It could be that... no. This wasn't the time. Finding that guy wasn't even his job. His job right now was managing the Stark Industries and trying to get his psyche to fully recover. He supposed one of the ways to do that was to take his girlfriend out on a normal date and trying not to worry about either of them exploding.

Tony had to admit that the night was a lot more fun and a lot more relaxing than any other night had been in months. The restaurant they went to wasn't the most ridiculously expensive in town, but it was definitely classy and served some damn good food. And he and Pepper could talk there. About mundane things that could be talked about without caring if someone overheard. Tony found himself actually relaxing and spending two whole hours without thinking about anything too stressful or complicated. At the end of it they were both pleasantly tipsy and walked back to Tony's car while chatting and laughing like a couple of high schoolers.

"Man, Steve is missing out."

Pepper frowned a bit at the out-of-place comment.

"Why? Because he doesn't go on dates?"

"Nah. Because he can't get drunk."

Pepper laughed.

"At least he won't do anything stupid under the influence."

"No, he's gonna have to take all the blame himself when he's being stupid," Tony said, "Not that it happens too often. The guy's a boy scout."

He took a moment to look at the darkening sky. There was a distant blink of reflecting light on top of a building.

"You know, if I wasn't a little drunk right now, I'd realize how happy I am and how weird it is to be happy after all the bullshit we've been through."

His mind was relaxingly blurry, but that definitely wasn't the best part about the moment; Pepper was holding his hand. She looked stunning in her elegant black dress, and she was alive and she was everything that was Pepper. Wait, that sounded like a pun that went nowhere. Or not. Maybe he'd had a bit too much to drink after all. Did it matter? They had a chauffeur. Nothing could really ruin this moment.

There was a tiny voice in Tony's head that managed to pierce through the drunkenness and remind him that thinking that nothing could ruin the moment would definitely be just asking for something to ruin it. And it had a good point, but Tony refused to listen to it.

They were almost at the car when a whistle startled them a second before Tony felt a spear of intense pain all the way through his shoulder blade to his chest. Something threw him off-balance, and he dimly heard Pepper shout in what was probably panic. Then the street came to meet his face and he had to cough. Something red splattered onto the asphalt. He tried to move his hands and his feet, but his muscles were very quickly losing their strength to the pain. He couldn't breathe properly and he was also evidently losing a lot of blood. Maybe going into shock too. Pepper was talking very determinedly on the phone. Tony couldn't really see her anymore. There was only blackness that blackened even further.

Tony's last thought before losing consciousness was something about the moment being very thoroughly ruined.

* * *

The Taskmaster proved to be very elusive for a man who liked to wear a skull mask and a hood, but Fury wasn't too concerned yet. Nothing escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. forever. If they could track down aliens, gods and myths, they could track down an assassin. The case of the stolen weapon designs was the easiest part. Someone had indeed broken into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and copied the designs about two months ago. Well, broken into was a bit misleading. The thief, whoever they were, had used the ID of one of their agents who had been killed in action, and the database had just handed the designs to them without even alerting anyone until they performed a more thorough scan on the system.

That discovery bothered Fury more than anything at the moment. There were admittedly several ways someone could have got their hands on the ID and codes of one of their dead agents, but almost all of those ways were extremely difficult and would require a lot of resources and ingenuity. And to get the system to actually recognise the outdated codes had taken some serious hacking as well. Obviously their system wasn't as foolproof as they had thought. Fury would have to get that fixed too, as soon as possible.

Fury had just finished with a particularly taxing bit of paperwork – certainly the more dull part of any law-enforcement job – when he got a call from Hill.

"What is it?"

"We have a situation," Hill said in a clipped tone, "Stark has been shot with an arrow."

* * *

**Author's Note: Uhh... I swear this is going somewhere. Eventually. Feedback is very, very welcome, you lovely people!**

**All info about Mother Nature a.k.a Emily Jane is from the ****_Guardians of Childhood _****books. I might come back to these chapters and break them off a bit differently, maybe combine chapters or something but that will be after I get this done more. Not much else to say so I won't waste your time further.**

**See you!**


	4. The Pieces Are Moving

**Introducing (sort of) the rest of the villains so far. They were suggested by Kagirinai and Maximus Potter. Thanks, guys!**

* * *

A private jet landed near Philadelphia, a respectable distance away from too many prying eyes – although the electronic ones were impossible to escape nowadays. The pilot had been specifically ordered to pick up the sole passenger all the way from China, and he was more than happy to oblige and accept the generous pay check he received from the job. The payment had been enough for both doing the job well and not asking questions. The pilot had been told that their passenger was a diplomat, someone with delicate business in the United States, so it made sense to travel privately and avoid public airports. What the pilot hadn't been told was that his passenger would never pass the security checks of a public airport.

The pilot, who was known to his neighbours as Mr. Greene and to his friends as just Bob, glanced over his shoulder at the door that obscured his view of the luxurious side where the passenger sat. His passenger had seemed like a cheery fellow. The man spoke English a bit brokenly but had a very impressive vocabulary. He was dressed in a sharp business suit, nothing traditionally Oriental anywhere. Mr. Greene couldn't be sure of the man's appearance because of the man's shades and classy, brimmed hat. He guessed the man would look, well, Asian under the hat and sunglasses. Mr. Greene was racist in the ignorant, innocent sort of way that mostly meant no harm.

Mr. Greene pressed a button that routed his voice into the plane's speakers.

"We'll be landing in about fifteen minutes. I thank you for flying with us. Have a very nice day, sir."

The announcement was maybe a bit informal for a Chinese diplomat, but it was the best Mr. Greene could do. He was a simple man who didn't really know nor care about licking the boots of important people. There were a lot of things he didn't know about. He didn't know that the diplomat he had just flown to the USA had a very aggressive idea of diplomacy. He didn't know that the nausea he was starting to feel was because of radiation sickness or that he would die from a sniper's bullet to the brain a couple of hours later. He simply landed his jet with professional ease and let the enigmatic Chinese man step out into a cab that was already waiting.

He could have sworn he saw the back of the man's neck glowing green.

* * *

Several dozen miles from the place where the glowing man had landed, a man and a woman walked on a crowded street and drew quite a lot of looks from everyone around them. It wasn't that they looked odd; they were simply conspicuous. The woman was gorgeous, and that alone was enough to make everyone stare at her. She was tall, with curves that were usually seen in films or magazines, and not in real life. They were accentuated by the simple yet obviously expensive green dress she was wearing. Her blonde hair was long and flowed in the wind in an almost unearthly way. The man with her would have gone unnoticed next to her attention hogging beauty if he weren't so huge; if one wanted to get a good look at the woman, one would inevitably have a view of the man as well. He had the kind of muscles you got only by spending countless of obsessive hours in the gym. He was scowling in a way that effectively kept even the boldest of tough guys at bay and trailed after the woman like a silent bodyguard. Although, those who thought that the woman would need a bodyguard were dead wrong.

The woman adjusted the sunglasses on her face and took a sharp right turn, her high heels clacking hollowly against the street. She stopped in front of a building that didn't stand out from the rest of the concrete blocks in any way. She dug out a small piece of paper from a bag and read it once more to make sure she had the right address. It was. She motioned the man to follow and opened the shaded glass door. Once inside, she closed the paper into her fist, opened it, and let ashes fall on the floor.

* * *

"Some of your people have come to Earth."

Thor stared at the woman in front of him. He had not expected to hear _this_. Some of his people? Why would they wish to come here? Well, unless some had been banished like he had once been. Or were his brother, the trickster who had wanted to take over Earth at one point. But Loki was dead now. Thor spared a moment of internal silence at his brother. Loki had redeemed himself the best he could in the end. And the rest of his people should be recovering from the war against the Dark Elves.

"What do you mean?" he managed to ask.

"Exactly what I said," Mother Nature looked back at Thor, her stormy eyes grey and golden at the same time, "They have hidden well from everyone, even me. But now it has gone on enough. I want them gone."

Thor frowned sceptically.

"I have not been informed of this at all."

"They must have come here secretly, then," Mother Nature shrugged her shoulders, "But I know they are here nonetheless. I thought you should be warned."

"Are they here with ill intentions?" Thor asked, still not sure what to make of this. He supposed this woman would be the one to sense if something was wrong on Earth. She was bound to be deeply in tune with the planet. Still, why would she start accusing his people of it?

"I am fairly sure they are," Mother Nature said darkly, "And in any case, this is not the place for them. I don't want to watch people breaking into this world on their whims. They have caused nothing but trouble."

Thor took a step forward. No matter who she was, this woman had no right to insult his people.

"I will not hear such slander! We have no intention to break in here!"

"Yet here you are."

Thor clenched his hands into fists. Mother Nature did not seem fazed by it.

"You I can tolerate, Mr. Odinson," she said, but Thor could hear it wasn't really an attempt at diplomacy, merely a statement, "You kept Loki at bay when he was wreaking havoc. Now I want you to take care of those other two. Take them back home."

Thor frowned.

"Why should I take orders from you? You call me here to insult Asgard and then expect me to fight my own people?"

"It doesn't have to go that far," Mother Nature said, "I came to you specifically so you would find a more diplomatic route. They will no doubt ignore my pleas, but they might listen to you. If that fails, I will step in."

Clouds above them darkened until they were inky black. Thor could feel the sharp wind through his jacket. Had he been a human, he would have been shivering madly.

"What if they aren't here to cause harm? Would you risk Asgard's anger because of this?" Thor snapped.

"_They are trespassers!_" Mother Nature's voice suddenly became thunderous, less like a woman and more like a force of nature, "They have scared the Earth itself. _I will not stand for it!_ Don't you see, Mr. Odinson? The boundaries of this world are so frayed almost anyone could step through! If someone doesn't make a stand, the Earth could be overrun at any time!"

She took a deep breath.

"This isn't war, Mr. Odinson. I am simply protecting this world."

Thor slowly let his hands relax. He could see that Mother Nature was ready to wage one woman war even against Asgard itself just to protect Earth if she had to. He had to admit that he might do the same if it really came down to that. But...

"I will not fight without a good reason," Thor said finally, "But if there really are my people here, I do wish to find them."

Mother Nature nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Odinson. There are two of them. A man and a woman. I don't know their names, but they have been hiding in Northern Germany for a while now."

"So you do not know where they are for certain?"

Mother Nature's smile was very hollow.

"I know they have been in contact with a man named Heinrich Zemo, but that is the most I can tell. Perhaps you can talk to your friends about this. They seem to have good connections. If that assassin doesn't kill them first, that is."

"What assassin?" Thor frowned, worry overwriting everything else for a moment.

"Your friends should know," Mother Nature said without sounding worried at all, "I am not one to contact humans."

"Aye..." Thor sighed, "Are you as invisible to them as the Guardians are?"

Mother Nature nodded.

"I am not even sure when it all started. I suppose the difference is that I don't care whether they see me or not."

Thor looked at the lonely woman, who had perhaps been lonely for so long that she did not even feel it, and felt a spark of compassion.

"Very well," he said, "I will take your warning to heart. Let me take care of this."

"I will. But I will be watching."

With those rather ominous words, Mother Nature was gone, leaving only an apprehensive silence. Morning dew had frozen on the leaves, but Thor could see the ice melting when Mother Nature and her worries left the park.

* * *

Pepper hated the sound of the hospital machines beeping. Her more primitive side would have wanted to test if there was enough Extremis virus left in her to smash the machines with her bare hands. But that would be stupid, not to mention counterproductive for Tony's survival. So she settled for passive-aggressive glaring whenever she wanted something to get her mind off the fact that her boyfriend was barely clinging to life in the operating room.

They hadn't had time to get Tony to any of his usual surgeons. The closest ambulance had taken them to Lower Manhattan Hospital, where Pepper had called a couple of bodyguards to guard Tony just in case. The arrow had punctured Tony's left lung, and the arrowhead had been left in when Tony had fallen and the arrow had snapped in two. Who the hell went around New York shooting arrows at billionaires anyway? Other than Hawkeye, Pepper didn't know anyone who even used the damn things as weapons these days. And Hawkeye would never hurt Tony. Pepper was sure of that. But who would? Wait, that was a stupid question. Pepper could probably make a few pages long list right now off the top of her head. She let out a sigh. Tony had left Iron Man behind, but it didn't seem to have made his life any safer.

Pepper didn't know how many hours it would take for the surgeons to extract the arrowhead. It all blurred together into a dull, worry-filled blob of time. Pepper was used to worrying about things. She had a job at the top of Stark Industries, so worrying was one of the many things in her job description. She had also been Tony's friend and later girlfriend for years now. One could not know Tony Stark for long and not get into worrisome situations. Pepper had by now got so used to it that she could sit more or less patiently and wait for the situation to resolve itself. It didn't keep her from wishing there was something more she could do for Tony right now. Calling the ambulance and doing her best to keep Tony breathing when she and a very shocked chauffeur had waited for the sirens to swoop into earshot didn't seem like enough. But really, what could she do? She wasn't a surgeon. She would just have to wait and keep Tony's business empire standing – just like she pretty much always did. And hope. She really needed that too right now.

* * *

What hope Pepper managed to kindle within herself was mostly her own, but it did have a little help. Practically all hope did. The reason holiday mascots and anthropomorphic personifications existed was that there were times when people needed a little bit extra to make it through the day. And sometimes even that wasn't enough, but that was life. The bottom line was that if one wanted to find hope, they needed to look into themselves because hope didn't have a number on the yellow pages, or even an address.

The _Guardian_ of Hope did have an address, however, and he indeed was that little extra help people sometimes needed. His job also included chocolate making, egg hiding in Easter where appropriate, and making sure time travellers didn't meddle with history. However, he wasn't very easy to find either. Those who were lucky enough to meet him would immediately guess Australia, but they were wrong. He simply liked Australia, even though Australia didn't like him very much. The most accurate directions to his home that he would give to some carefully chosen individuals was simply "on Easter Islands", but that wasn't nearly specific enough to find him unless he wanted to be found.

Right now, though, his location was North Pole, and he wasn't especially happy about it. It was so bloody cold in there, and even though Santa's workshop normally had very good central heating, it was currently malfunctioning after suffering a severe case of elf-related chaos. So Bunnymund was left sitting grumpily near a fireplace while the rest of the Guardians seated themselves so that their meeting could start. Toothiana the Tooth Fairy sat next to Bunnymund to keep warm as well, but Sandy, Jack, and North didn't seem to be too bothered. Heck, Jack was obviously overjoyed because of the broken heating. Little Frostbite was prancing around the room, partly out of anxiety and partly out of his usual peppiness.

"...so we're not going to do anything about it?" Frostbite was saying incredulously, "But Mother Nature said there's something about to come through! You heard her, Sandy."

He turned to look at the eldest Guardian, who nodded reluctantly but also conjured up dreamsand images that advised the boy to calm down.

"Think about it, Jack," Bunnymund spoke up, "Nothin's happened yet. We can't just go world surfin' because something _might_ come through."

"Bunny is right," said Nicholas St. North, putting on his leader voice – something that Bunnymund didn't always care for but that was welcome right now, "We defend. Protect. We don't attack just because of rumours."

Jack sighed. The temperature inched further down a couple of degrees. Bunnymund snuggled closer to the fireplace.

"Oi! Watch it, Frostbite!"

"Well, what about those Asgardians?" Jack asked and deliberately ignored Bunnymund's complaints, "You think it's smart to let Mother Nature handle them?"

Sandy spoke up – figuratively – quickly forming images above his golden crown of hair. He had watched her. She had indeed gone to see Mr. Odinson and then left. For now, at least. Bunnymund had to find that reassuring, even though he couldn't say he trusted Mother Nature very much. She was too uncaring and didn't believe in alliances. And if someone wanted to call Bunnymund biased because Mother Nature was the daughter of the bastard who had wiped out Bunnymund's entire race... they would have been correct if Bunnymund hadn't been above that sort of thing. Mostly.

"I believe Mother Nature will leave it be now," North said, "She doesn't want to get involved too much."

"I hope ya're right," Bunnymund muttered, "But we know she's unpredictable."

"I can dispatch some of my fairies to keep watch on her," said Toothiana, who had been unusually quiet until now, "So that Sandy can focus on his duties fully again."

Sandy nodded gratefully, but also mimed quickly that it had been no trouble. No one missed how sleepy he looked, though. He projected a few more words and the Guardians watched intently.

"So Mother Nature knows those mysterious Asgardians have something to do with the Avengers being attacked?" Tooth summarised, crossing her feathered arms, "I don't like this."

"Those guys can take care of themselves," Bunnymund said dismissively. He didn't appreciate those Shield-agents meddling into their business. He had really hoped they would just continue coexisting without crossing paths.

Tooth looked grimly at them all.

"One of my fairies was sidetracked last night in New York because of a commotion involving Anthony Stark. He was shot."

"What?" Jack gasped, "Just like that?"

Tooth shrugged helplessly.

"He and Miss Virginia Potts were apparently on a date. Nothing... superhero related as far as I know."

There was a contemplative silence. North stroked his long, white beard with a frown on his face. Sandy had an ellipsis over his head. Jack dropped the temperature one more degree out of sheer worry.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"Alive," Tooth said, "But in a hospital. I don't know anything else."

"Alright," Bunnymund huffed, "That's sad an' all, but those guys get shot at all the time."

"Bunny!" Tooth admonished, "He could die!"

Bunnymund raised his paws defensively.

"I mean, we've talked 'bout this. We can't be too upset with every single tragedy. We've got to keep going so we can keep helping. All I meant was: why d'ya think that has something to do with... well, anything that'd require our help?"

Tooth pursed her lips irritably. Her wings started fluttering and she rose into the air.

"Well, I think we should at least look into it! I mean, Asgardians, Mother Nature... S.H.I.E.L.D. being kind enough to ask us for advise before doing anything rash. We should at least make sure they aren't in over their heads."

"I agree" said North cheerfully, "I think we can all agree that something strange is going on."

"I thought we agreed before that our job isn't the Avengers' job an' vice versa," Bunnymund grumbled.

"We're not starting any agent business, or... or going to a war, Bunny," Frostbite said, "We're just making sure our old pals are fine. What? You scared?"

Bunnymund glared.

"Nobody said anythin' about scared, Snowflake! And those 'pals' we're the ones who kidnapped you, remember?"

Jack waved his hand lightly.

"Meh, they said they're sorry. And we're cool now, remember? Holding grudges for stuff like that is boring, anyway."

"Then is settled," North said, "We get to bottom of this. Well, as long as it doesn't interfere with actual duties."

He glanced worriedly towards his workshop, where his yeti workers were trying their best to fix the heating and simultaneously keep the toy factory running.

"Now, if everyone is clear on things, this meeting is over. I think elves are trying to set stuffed animals on fire."

* * *

"Miss Potts?"

Pepper looked up when a doctor called for her. The woman was in her mid forties and looked every bit the stereotypical doctor with her dark rimmed glasses and the serious bun her hair had been pulled up into. The only thing that messed with the image were the five holes in her left ear that no doubt had earrings in them when she was off-duty.

"Yes?" Pepper asked, partly relieved and partly fearful to finally get news. Tony had been in surgery for... hours? Time was still all smudged up for her. She might have even fallen asleep at some point. She wasn't sure any more.

"I am doctor Blackwell," said the doctor, shaking Pepper's hand, "Mr. Stark has been stabilized for now. The arrowhead has been extracted and his lung has been repaired to the best of our abilities. There were no serious complications."

"Will he be all right?" Pepper asked, standing up from the chair she had been rooted into for the last blob of time.

Doctor Blackwell looked at her notes, probably just for show.

"I would say his chances are fairly good, considering the extent of the damage. He is unconscious right now, and we don't yet know if he sustained brain damage from the impact he suffered while falling. His lung will take time to recover fully, and he has lost a lot of blood. There is still a high risk of infection. At the moment, we can only wait and see."

"Can I see him?"

Doctor Blackwell smiled sympathetically.

"Yes, you can, Miss Potts."

Tony was pale and hooked to several annoyingly beeping machines. Pepper cautiously walked across the room when Doctor Blackwell let her in and she sat by Tony's bedside. This wasn't the first time Tony had been on the brink of death. He had lived the last few years of his life dying, until the shrapnel he had got into his chest all those years ago had finally been removed. And now someone had gone and shot more foreign objects into Tony's chest. Pepper knew Tony was strong, but she had to wonder how many serious surgeries a human body could take in such a short time.

No, she couldn't think like that. Tony would survive. He had to.

Pepper touched Tony's hand that lay on the covers. Behind the oxygen mask, Tony's face was slack, missing the energy Tony usually had. Pepper pressed her mouth into a thin line.

"I know you," she said quietly, "You're not going to let something like this kill you."

She really hoped she was right. The machines beeped, and despite hating them, Pepper found some solace in the fact that the beeping was steady and indicated Tony was at least stable. Outside, it began to snow.

* * *

Films and postcards liked to depict snow as always white, powdery, and, depending on the mood, fun or romantic. Everyone who lived in the real world knew that it definitely wasn't the only type of snow in existence, and everyone in New York was now reminded of that fact. The first snowfall of the year was the opposite of fun or romantic. It consisted of heavy, large clumps of half-frozen water molecules stuck together. They melted when they made contact with almost anything other than air and made those who were more well versed in the matter debate whether it could be called snow or just sleet. It was almost depressing, like whoever was in charge of it wasn't even trying. To be fair, he wasn't.

He was too busy sitting in the air with his nose against a hospital window, chanting something silently at the people inside. He didn't even care that he was the only thing besides air that didn't melt the sleet, which froze into flakes of ice that clung to his hair and skin. Jack Frost wasn't a welcome visitor in hospitals, because he radiated coldness that the patients or delicate electronics definitely didn't need. However, he didn't want to constantly stay away from the places where people needed some extra joy to get better. So he settled for straying to the hospital windows, drawing pretty patterns with frost and wishing the patients well. This time he had taken a detour to Lower Manhattan Hospital, where Tony Stark had been stationed in.

Usually he focused mostly on children's wards, but he had figured he could make an exception every once in a while. Stark wasn't quite a friend, but he was fun to play pranks on. It had become a kind of competition. Tony would upgrade the security measures in his tower to prevent any trouble Jack could cause, and Jack would occasionally try to circumvent Tony's systems. It was never anything serious, just some harmless fun like leaving a taunting message written in frost on Tony's computer screens. Now, though, Jack wasn't there to leave messages or to test security measures. Now it was time to take a minute to watch over a sort of friend, who was stable for the moment, but still looked incredibly fragile. It just wasn't like Tony at all.

Jack pressed his hands against the window, ignoring the frost that started to spread on the glass. He chanted the spell, which North had taught him, a few more times:

"I believe. I believe. I believe."

* * *

S.H.I.E.L.D. had doubled their efforts to find the Taskmaster after Stark had been attacked. It was clear now that someone was after the Avengers. But whether it was the Taskmaster himself or someone who had hired the man, they didn't know. Whichever the case, they would have to start with neutralizing the assassin. Fury would not let his best defence team going down like this. Until the Taskmaster was in their custody, they would have to be extra careful.

After dispatching a couple of agents to the hospital Stark was recovering in – well, hopefully recovering and not just slowly dying – Fury had put a few of their less acute projects on hold just to liberate even more resources to tracking the elusive assassin down. He spent hours working overtime – if that was possible when he considered himself to be working 24/7 – looking up their satellite pictures and making calls all over the world. In the second night after Stark had been shot, Fury finally got what he wanted.

He looked over the maps on his computer screen, smiled without any real joy, and then made one more call.

"I think we've got him."

* * *

_"__I think we've got him."_

Natasha Romanoff had been waiting for someone to tell her that a while ago. When the radioed green light to start her mission was through, she was already on her way. The Taskmaster had very likely been spotted in a dingy hotel in Chicago. Natasha had taken the first S.H.I.E.L.D.-transport she could get and was trailing the man less than two hours after she had got her call. The man had unknowingly led Natasha to the outskirts of an industrial area, where Natasha now had a perfect vantage point.

She had pulled her shoulder-length, red hair up in a ponytail and was wearing her form-fitting black agent suit under a simple coat that would help her blend into the more populated areas she might need to get through. She had considered dressing entirely in civilian clothes, but their mysterious assassin had proven to be an opponent who shouldn't be given any advantages. Natasha would start in full stealth mode and try to get close to the man that way. If it didn't work all the way to the end, she would present herself vulnerable enough for the Taskmaster to think he had a good chance to get her. The man would need to think that she was looking for him, but he would also need to believe that he would be able to surprise her. It shouldn't be too hard an illusion to pull off. Natasha had pretty much perfected that tactic. People usually underestimated a woman with a pretty face, something Natasha would have been more annoyed about if it wasn't so easy to take advantage of.

She triple-checked that her trusted Glock pistols were in their holsters, easily in reach and well hidden under her coat before pulling out a pair of binoculars again and switching them to heat vision. It was getting dark; the buildings became grey boxes and streets started to turn into black strips of nothing that broke the city into a jigsaw puzzle of street lights and advertisements. The boxes and puzzles slid away from Natasha's sight and were replaced with colours. Reddish spots that were warm and walked around were mostly concentrated on the streets. A few more lonely ones had strayed from the roads, and one was situated on the roof of a building not too far away from Natasha, right across the street in fact. And that was the red spot Natasha was the most interested in. She changed the filters in her binoculars until she could get an actually decent look at the man on the roof even in the dark. A skull mask was barely visible in the shadows. He was talking on a phone, probably getting his newest orders. Judging by his body language, he didn't know Natasha was there. Perfect.

Natasha shifted her weight, shedding her coat and putting the binoculars away. She leaned forward and froze. A flash of rainbow caught the corner of her eye. A neon sign reflected on something for a split-second before it was gone. Natasha narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed between her teeth, as quietly as she could while still being heard to the newcomer.

"I just got here. I wasn't going to sneak up on you!" a voice from the dark said far too loudly for Natasha's liking, "Not that I could have, anyway. You are _very _perceptive."

"'For a human', I suppose," Natasha replied.

A colourful hybrid of a bird and a woman flitted from behind a billboard. She was very short, but hovered at Natasha's eye level thanks to her rapidly flapping insect wings. Natasha hadn't seen her in a while, not that she had minded. The Tooth Fairy was one of the Guardians, and she had powers associated with memories. Natasha still wasn't quite comfortable around her because of that. The Tooth Fairy had the tendency to remind her of things she couldn't really call a part of her life. Things that a part of her very much wanted to call her life.

"No, I meant in general," the fairy said cheerfully, "Anyway, to answer to your question: I'm here to help. Well, more like keep an eye on things, actually. We don't doubt your ability to handle this on your own. It's just that we – the Guardians, that is – well, some things have come up that really got our attention. Don't worry! It's just for a moment, and you won't even know we're involved. Really, we'll be-"

Natasha moved her head but stayed frozen in her crouch otherwise. The Tooth Fairy was like a hyperactive hummingbird. A very _loud _one. Natasha glanced at the spot where the Taskmaster had been. She couldn't see the man without her binoculars, but she would have to shut up her unexpected companion before checking.

"Toothiana," she whispered forcefully, "This is a _stealth_ mission."

What she meant was that a loud, flying fairy really wasn't good for such a mission. Or that the teal, pink, blue, and yellow feathers didn't make for good camouflage anywhere. Toothiana seemed to understand enough to shut up for a second, at least.

"Oh, don't worry," she then chirped, "I'm sure there won't be anyone around who can see or hear me. No believers here! Well, besides you obviously. Unless whoever you're against uses children, which is very, very unlikely. And too sad to think about!"

Natasha narrowed her eyes further. Toothiana's mouth snapped shut and she made an apologetic gesture with her small, feathered hands. Natasha supposed it wasn't as necessary as she had made it out to be, if Toothiana really was practically non-existent to people who didn't believe in her, but it never hurt to err to the side of caution. She pulled out her binoculars again and checked to see if the Taskmaster had moved. He hadn't. Toothiana peered into the darkness as well.

"So that's the assassin that attacked Mr. Barton and Mr. Stark?" Toothiana asked, this time at least keeping her voice down.

Natasha nodded. Toothiana shielded her eyes and looked critically at the man.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Get close, incapacitate him, and get info," Natasha replied, "It might involve a fight. And you? Were you doing to screw with his mind with your memory powers or something?"

Toothiana looked very offended.

"I don't 'screw' with anyone's mind! And no, we don't even know who he is, so there's no way I'll be able to even find his memories without getting closer to him first."

Well, that was a surprise. Not that Natasha knew exactly how the Tooth Fairy did her memory magic – except that it had something to do with the teeth she and her tiny helpers collected – but she had figured she would just know everyone's memories just like that. Somehow realizing that she didn't made Natasha feel a little more comfortable. At least she could now think there were at least some of her own memories the fairy couldn't get access to, as well. Maybe.

"So what _do _your people know about this guy?" she had to ask anyway.

"Not much," Toothiana shrugged, "Not even his name. He's not a child so he isn't our priority. Still, it's a bit weird that we couldn't get so much as a name. If we had it, we could find him on North's lists. Sandy knew a little bit at least. Said his brain is wired differently than most. He couldn't really explain it. Something to do with memory. That's partly why I'm here."

"And the other reasons as to why you?"

"We thought I would get along with you. At least better than the others."

Well, Natasha supposed that was reasonable. They had shared a sort of friendly moment back when they had met, after getting over the initial misunderstandings. That didn't really make them friends or confidants in Natasha's eyes, but the Guardians probably thought differently. They seemed to be stuck in a more idealistic way of thinking.

"If you're really here to just watch," Natasha whispered, "then stay out of the way and we'll be fine."

"Oh, I promise," Toothiana said, as cheerful as ever, "I will come to your aid if you need it, though."

"Fair enough," Natasha said.

Not that she would need any help if things went according to plan, or even in many cases when things _didn't _go according to plan. She checked once more to make sure that the Taskmaster was still at his spot. After determining that he was, she jumped down from her vantage point, landing on a fire escape staircase and sneaking down as quietly as she could. She tried her best to tune out the humming of Toothiana's wings as the fairy followed her. To Toothiana's credit, she did keep a respectful distance, probably understanding that Natasha wanted some space. Natasha pressed her back against the wall at a corner of a building, and took a moment to let silence fall again after it had been broken by her nearly silent footsteps. She knew she wasn't being as careful and professional as she could have been, but that was the point. The Taskmaster seemed to like surprising them when they believed to be in their own element. It was time to turn that strategy against the man.

She had made her way almost all the way across the street before the assassin took the bait. She had been prepared for the arrows, and she knew several ways to steer clear of them. She and Clint knew each other's fighting styles well enough to counter most of the things they could throw at each other in a training session or a sparring match. And in one very unfortunate instance, in a real fight when Clint had been mind-controlled by Loki. An arrow clacked against the wall near Natasha, and Natasha quickly crouched down and rolled, catching the arrow from the ground in the process. It had been broken on impact, but it would give some useful information if she took it to one of their labs. She broke into a run, staying in the shadows and avoiding places where firing a bow would be a viable option. She heard Toothiana's wings and the man's distant, speeding footsteps. A louder, but still muffled thud came from an alley to her left and Natasha concluded that the Taskmaster had left the rooftops and descended on her level. She pulled a Glock out of its holster and waited until she heard the man rounding a corner to the same street she was on. Then she spun around as quickly as she could and aimed a warning shot at the man's feet. She closed their distance when the man tried to fit another arrow on his bow – which, Natasha noted when getting closer, was very similar in style to Clint's bow – and fired another shot. The Taskmaster spun back behind the corner, the bullet flying past him. The man was obviously quick to react.

"He's preparing a pistol," came Toothiana's voice from higher up. The fairy was flying near the rooftops, surveying the battlefield with a soldier's vigilance.

Natasha didn't bother replying, but instead dove for cover when the man opened fire. She crawled behind abandoned, metallic shipping crates and pulled a small flashbang grenade from her belt. She let the assassin get closer before she threw it at his feet and closed her eyes. A shout of surprise and pain was all Natasha needed to know that it had worked. She hopped back to her feet and swung herself onto the shipping crate. The Taskmaster was blindly stumbling around near the corner of it, and Natasha crossed the top of the crate and dropped right onto the man's shoulders. The force of the hit, combined with the blindness, drove the Taskmaster into the nearest brick wall. Natasha jumped off, landing behind the assassin in a quiet crouch.

"Nice!" Toothiana cheered.

"That was for Hawkeye and Tony," Natasha huffed, raising her voice to make sure the Taskmaster heard it even through his hood and mask, "What do you think you can accomplish by attacking us?"

The Taskmaster turned, the perpetually angry skull mask not betraying any real emotion.

"Well played," he said, his voice muffled by the mask, "I have to remember that move, ya know?"

Natasha saw the gun flash in the man's hand, and she dodged behind a crate when two shots were fired. One of the bullets grazed her thigh, scratching through her suit and drawing blood. Not quite what she had intended to happen, but she could go with it. She let her knee buckle and allowed a small grunt of pain escape. Toothiana gasped, so Natasha figured she had overreacted to the injury well enough. Still, she couldn't go down too easily. That would be suspicious. She rolled out of her cover, sliding under the man's raised weapon-hand and threw a punch to the man's abdomen. There was armour in the way, but she could punch hard enough to bruise even through it. The Taskmaster countered, surprisingly quick for a man of his body builder-like frame. The kick came right out of nowhere, and Natasha didn't even have to fake the air leaving her lungs when she was struck in the solar plexus. She hit the ground and managed to control the fall just enough to not seriously hurt anything. She gasped and raised her hand defensively, arranging a distressed look on her face.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked breathlessly, "Who wants us dead enough to send _you_?"

The Taskmaster stopped, his gun loosely held at his side. His bow was on his back, but Natasha knew he could pull it out quickly if needed. She would have to be fast and merciless to disarm the man once she got him to talk. Toothiana had lowered herself so that she was right behind the man, looking concerned and clearly wished to assist. Not that she could actually do anything, since she was invisible and intangible to the man. Natasha wondered how exactly she had thought to help.

"You're in the way," the Taskmaster said in an almost bored tone, "Look, girl. I just get paid to do this."

Natasha shrank back, aiming to look defiant and frightened at the same time.

"You shot Tony," she accused, "And attacked Hawkeye. We didn't even know about you before that."

"But I guess you knew about my employer."

Perfect. Now they were getting somewhere. It was amazing how easy it was to get people talking when they thought they were winning.

"No, we don't."

"And I'm not about to tell ya."

Damn. He wasn't as stupid as he looked. He needed another push. Toothiana was hovering even closer to the man, an odd look on her face. It was a mix of horror, fascination, and uncertainty. Natasha wasn't sure if it was aimed at the man or if the fairy had caught onto her scheme and didn't quite approve. She took a deep breath to make sure her lungs had recovered from the kick and then shifted her weight. The Taskmaster's gun was just close enough for her next move.

"So you are just going to kill us, after everything we've done to keep people safe?" she hissed.

The Taskmaster tilted his hooded head.

"Yeah, sorry," he didn't sound sorry at all, "But I told ya; you're in the way."

And he wasn't going to say anything more. Natasha could see it. She needed to be fast or she would be dead. Before the Taskmaster could properly aim his gun, she kicked upwards with her not so injured leg. Her boot hit the man's fingers and didn't unfortunately break anything. It did, however, knock the gun out of the man's hand. Natasha rolled backwards and kicked the gun farther away so that she stood between it and the assassin. The Taskmaster took a couple of steps back, brushing against Toothiana's shoulder...

...and he spun around, aiming a lightning-fast right hook at the Tooth Fairy.

Natasha froze. So did Toothiana and the Taskmaster.

Toothiana had reacted instantly, catching the man's fist with her tiny hand. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock. The Taskmaster struggled against her grip.

"You can... see me?" she stammered, "But how in the... you... what?"

If Natasha too hadn't been so surprised by the fact that the Taskmaster apparently believed in the Tooth Fairy, she would have noted that the fairy's display of super strength looked even more absurd when put against a man built like a renaissance statue.

"You're the Tooth Fairy, aren't'cha?" the Taskmaster said, impressively calm given the situation, "She told me about you... all of you. Not sure if everyone believed her. But I did."

"Who told you?" Natasha asked.

The Taskmaster's answer was swinging his free hand at Toothiana. The fairy caught it as well. Her eyes widened even further and she shoved the man away so hard that he hit the wall.

"What happened to you?" she gasped.

Natasha had no idea what had shocked Toothiana so much. What she did know was that the Taskmaster was stunned, and that it was the perfect opportunity to end the fight. She quickly pressed a button that started up electric currents that ran through her gloves, sprinted up to the Taskmaster and lined up her punch. The current in the gloves was just enough to send the man into unconsciousness with negligible damage or pain. The Taskmaster slumped to the ground and Natasha rolled him to his side before calling for a transport to pick them up.

Toothiana was still staring at the assassin's prone form, and Natasha had a feeling there was something else to be upset about than what she could see about the situation.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Toothiana shook her head vigorously as if wanting to get rid of an unpleasant thought.

"His memories..."

"What about them?"

Toothiana didn't answer. She seemed to be deep in thought. The shock she had been in was wearing off, but it seemed to have been replaced with something else she didn't seem to be inclined to share. Natasha sighed. She hoped the transport wouldn't take long to arrive. Hours in an industrial area with an unconscious assassin and an upset fairy for company definitely wasn't her favourite way of spending her evenings.

* * *

**Author's Note: If I don't get a new chapter out before November starts, don't expect an update until December, because November's writing energy is reserved for NaNoWriMo! So have a longer chapter to make up for it! Or to prolong your suffering because you need to read more, depending on what kind of an effect my writing has on you.**

**...I feel like I'm starting to repeat the basic plot of the first crossover but just with different characters in the roles but... hey, there's tons of other stuff going on that I'll try to pull together towards the end as well. I really am not trying to rehash ****_Clashing with Legends_**** too much. But I also really try to not suck and that isn't working out too well so... But hey, I already have one character in a hospital so at least I've accomplished something...ish. Also, Mother Nature/Emily Jane is fun and difficult to write.**

**Reviews would be very loved because they help me get better! Thank you all who have given me support already and also helped me get ideas for the fic!**


	5. No Breaks for the Heroic

**5\. No Breaks for the Heroic**

There was darkness.

It wasn't the nice, pleasant darkness of a Saturday night, but it wasn't the depressing, endless darkness of the Northern hemisphere in winter either. It just... was. He supposed he had to be glad it didn't involve trippy visions of corpses or crushing hopelessness of space. Wait, why would he even worry about that?

Because that had been his dreams in summary not too long ago.

That's right. He _had _been really messed up, hadn't he? And now he was getting better and he'd been shot for his trouble. With that information he inevitably came to the conclusion that he was Tony Stark. And that he was dreaming, probably in a coma.

Tony had had lucid dreams before. He had even trained himself to distinguish dreams from reality at some point of his life, but reality checks had got way more difficult when his waking life had become filled with Norse gods, magic cubes, and weird explosive viruses. But now he was certain he was dreaming, because he remembered being shot and there was no way he could have been healed yet in the real world. Tony looked down at his hands. In a normal dream that would have been impossible. Now he saw them clearly. Lines that some palm reader could probably make some money out of if Tony suddenly got high enough to try it. Fingers that had become quite nimble after years of computer work and obsessive tinkering. He looked back up and the darkness was still there. It was incredibly dull and Tony wondered if this was his mind's way of telling him to wake up and do something interesting. How long had he been unconscious anyway?

Tony focused on waking up. A lucid dream was so close to feeling real that it was easy for him to actually step into reality. He pried his eyes open and was assaulted by hospital lighting. He blinked furiously and heard a chair scraping somewhere to his right. Pepper's face appeared into his field of vision and he managed a weak smile at the relief on her face.

"Hi", he said hoarsely, "What did I miss?"

* * *

The Taskmaster had been secured into a basic cell in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters. The man had been unmasked, but so far that hadn't helped them figure out who he was. Under the metal skull he looked entirely unremarkable, just like an everyday passer-by. Still, the moment he had seen him, Fury knew he had seen the man somewhere before as well. He would have to look into it, but only after they had got the most important info out of him. Namely, who had hired him, and why.

They wasted no time starting the interrogations. Fury had wanted to go in himself right away and assigned Romanoff to assist him. She was the one who had taken the Taskmaster down, and she was good at making people talk without them even realising it. Even this tactic, however, proved to be useless against the Taskmaster. The man stayed silent about pretty much everything they asked him. He just sat relaxedly in the most uncomfortable metal chair private funding could buy and kept starting at them, almost as if trying to read something from them.

"You're not gaining anything by keeping quiet," Fury remarked, folding his arms, "Whoever hired you isn't going to help you. If you cooperate, you'll just be arrested for a while."

The Taskmaster shrugged his shoulders. Even without the combat armour he was muscular, not exactly huge compared to the likes of Thor, but in impressive shape nonetheless.

"Ya think my job security is that bad? I got two of your best. I'm sure that's enough motivation for my employer to get me out of here."

"You didn't get anyone," Romanoff said, "Clint and Tony are both alive. How much do you get paid for failures?"

The Taskmaster made a small noise of disbelief.

"Stark's still alive, eh? Tough bastard. Bet he ain't feeling too good, though."

Romanoff's brow crinkled slightly. The Taskmaster smiled.

"Ya're not getting any info out of me."

And as much as Fury hated to admit it, in about an hour it turned out the Taskmaster was right.

"It _is_ possible that he doesn't even know who's behind this all," Romanoff said solemnly when they stepped out of the interrogation room without any answers.

"I know," Fury replied, "But we don't exactly have much to go on right now."

Romanoff nodded. At the door of the interrogation room stood a guard, just like Fury had ordered. What he hadn't ordered, though, was the colourful bird-woman hovering near the ceiling and smiling apologetically. She had tagged along with Romanoff when the Taskmaster had been brought in and Fury had grudgingly let her stay only because she seemed to know something about this man that they didn't. The guard at the door seemed to be blissfully unaware of her presence, and for a moment Fury almost wished he was too.

"Mr. Fury," the Tooth Fairy greeted, "I have a request."

Fury sighed and quickly told the guard to leave them. The agent obeyed, and as soon as he had disappeared around a corner, Fury directed his full attention to the Tooth Fairy.

"I thought you were gone already."

"Right," the fairy smiled even wider, "Well, as it turns out, I'm not. Good thing too, because I can help you."

Fury crossed his arms and gave her a look he usually reserved for those times when an agent for one reason or another started to develop attitude problems. Toothiana looked at the door to the interrogation room without taking the hint.

"I want to speak to him," she said.

"We just interrogated him," Fury said, "Do you have something that would give us an edge in that? If not, then this is not the time."

The fairy looked slightly uncomfortable. Her hands twitched.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "But I want to be present in the interrogation. His memories may have been tampered with."

That got Fury's attention.

"How so?"

"Because he doesn't remember even his own name."

Fury glanced at Romanoff. She nodded as if to say she believed the fairy. Romanoff's reports on the Guardian-incident did state that the Tooth Fairy had some memory-related magic. So it would make sense that she would know if someone's memory was off. Well, it made sense in a less scientific way but then again, science had been gleefully flipped upside down in Fury's world years ago already.

"Well, then it seems agent Romanoff's guess was correct," Fury said, "You can go in, but we'll be there as well."

The Tooth Fairy beamed at him.

* * *

Tony was moved to his home almost immediately after he had woken up. He had insisted that the place would go down without him there, even though it was doing fine. Pepper had suspected – correctly – that Tony simply didn't want to be without his gadgets for too long. She didn't complain, though. She was too relieved about Tony's fast recovery. Life was too short and unpredictable for useless nagging. Besides, she knew just as well as Tony did that he would just recover even quicker in his natural habitat. Even now he felt almost energised with his smartphone and at least two computers around him. He had a lot of catching up to do.

Luckily he didn't need to do it all alone. Bruce Banner had visited him soon after he had arrived at his tower. His friend now sat near Tony's bed, typing on the keyboard of yet another laptop so fast it was almost like straight out of a film where they never typed correctly. He adjusted his glasses and turned to look at Tony with a contemplative frown.

"So, what do you think about all this?" he asked.

Tony stopped what he was doing, namely playing a game about using slightly enraged birds as slingshot ammunition while his computer downloaded a few S.H.I.E.L.D. -files that were meant to be secret.

"About what? A weirdo assassin targeting us or what's apparently a couple of good ol' Thunder God's people running around? How did you hear about that one anyway?"

"Someone told Thor, who told Fury, who told Steve, who told me," Bruce said and turned his eyes back to his screen, "Steve is looking into this now, and he thought it good to warn even me. A nice sentiment, even if there's precious little that can actually hurt me."

It could have sounded like bragging had it been anyone else but Bruce Banner saying it. But the Hulk was something Bruce hardly ever bragged about, even now that he was a bit more okay with it.

"Right now it's the rest of you I'm worried about," Bruce went on, "But yeah, what about you?"

"I'm a bit sore about it," Tony said, "Literally. Also, interested. It could be a bunch of unconnected, random happenings that happen to be centred around us, but I haven't survived this many near death experiences and not learned that this kind of weird crap usually connects."

"Meaning something is coming?"

"Meaning something is about to hit the fan," Tony corrected, "And it's not going to be puppies. Or actually, it could be. That would be even worse than something nasty hitting it."

He sighed.

"Talk about a bad time to be incapacitated."

"Tell me about it," Bruce said, "On a side note, Steve asked if I had _Star Wars_. Do you happen to have those?"

Tony raised a brow. It was such a normal, out of place question it almost made him laugh. That was probably what Bruce was going for.

"I'll send them to him. He has a computer now, right?"

Despite Tony's frustration at his current uselessness, Bruce's visit made him feel a little better. At least he knew what was going on now. And he was improving all the time. An arrow in the lung wasn't the worst he had survived from. Pepper's frequent visits in between her work to keep Stark Industries running kept him going and while she was gone, he had gigabytes of files to go through to get to the bottom of the mysterious assassin and the even more mysterious Asgardians. When going to sleep Tony could almost feel safe knowing he was closer to finding out something about this mess.

Except one day not long after he'd got back to his tower he opened his eyes and heard a knocking at a window. Then a familiar voice was carried inside by the winds.

"Hey!"

Tony turned and saw the window frosting over because a very wintry kid was breathing against it. Tony let out a long-suffering sigh.

"What? Seriously? Now?"

"Good to see you're better now!" Jack Frost said cheerfully, "Let me in! I've got something to tell you!"

Tony figured he could just close his new steel shutters and shut Jack out, but that would be rude and pointless. Besides, the kid wasn't freezing his pipes right now and was actually asking to be let in, so that was a considerable upgrade in manners. He should probably respond in kind. Tony let the boy in, and he landed on a bedside table. Snow fell under his feet and Tony was glad there were no delicate electronics on the table.

"Well, what is it?" Tony asked, rubbing his eyes, "It'd better be good."

Jack looked Tony up and down.

"Wow, that assassin did do a number on you. Well, anyway, I just figured you'd like to know we're in this thing now, too."

"What thing?"

Jack spread his arms.

"You know: this! Asgardians, assassins, stuff."

Tony glared.

"This isn't honestly why you're here? Please tell me you actually had something important to tell me!"

"Well, not really... I just wanted you to let me in so I could make sure you're safe. And we kind of need some files from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Tony almost wanted to throw something at the kid, but that would probably violate some sorts of laws. Maybe. 300-year-old spirits didn't really count as children or people in the eyes of the law, did they?

"Look," Jack said ,"Something weird is going on. It's coming this way and North had a feeling about it and we're sure you have a lot of info about this."

"You're here because Santa Claus senses were tingling?"

"Yeah, but his belly is usually right."

Tony rubbed his face again, hoping he could just wipe away the whole moment.

"So, puppies will hit the fan and Old Man Winter was sent here to commit information theft. This is just great."

Said Old Man Winter was obviously sickened by the idea of puppies in fans. Though to be fair, he really didn't look like Old Man Winter. Take a member of a boy band that was much more about non-threatening, marketable looks than substance, dress him like a hobo, and then put him in a freezer for a week and the end result would probably look exactly like Jack Frost. Except, as Tony had to admit, Jack Frost had a mind that definitely didn't belong to a boy band. It was too old and too young at the same time, for starters. And when he let some actual intelligence through his happy fun times shell, he could get surprisingly philosophical.

"I promise I won't get in the way," Jack said, "I'll be gone before you know it. I just need a couple of things from your computers, all right?"

"They're S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files," Tony said impatiently, "Can't you ask Fury instead?"

Jack snorted.

"Like he'd give us anything. He's already straining his hospitality with Tooth."

Okay, so Bruce and files hadn't managed to update Tony fully to the situation. He rose from his bed and grabbed some clothes from his wardrobe. If he had to hang out with the spirit of winter in his tower, he wasn't going to do it in his pyjamas.

"Don't touch anything while I take a shower, _especially _the pipes."

Jack mock-saluted.

"Don't count on it."

His denial was more reassuring than any assurance would have been. Tony rolled his eyes and left the room.

Unnoticed by either of them, a dark grey car parked a couple of blocks away from Tony's tower and three men stepped out of it. One of the men had a long, dark coat covering his muscular frame and he looked almost lonely without the company of the green clad woman he was usually seen with. The three men set their eyes on the Stark Tower and started walking.

* * *

"I really hope your man can pull through. The Taskmaster's failure needs to be amended_ now_."

There was clear disappointment in the hooded man's tone. The woman in the green dress crossed her arms and raised an elegant eyebrow at the man. Their "employer" – as he sometimes called himself – should have been expecting this. Sending a mere mortal to apprehend the group who had brought down Loki demonstrated astonishingly poor judgement.

"He will succeed," she said in a voice that usually made men swoon. It did not appear to work on the anxious hooded man in front of her, not that she minded. He was not her type, anyway.

The hooded man looked at her and she could sense the man's annoyance. She didn't mind it.

"We were supposed to dispose of Stark before he gets back into his tower," the man said, "But they were faster than I thought, and now they will be even more careful."

"That is why you sent the Executioner," she said, making a sweeping gesture to the empty space next to her, where her hulking companion usually stood, "He will not be perturbed by anything in there."

"Stark has technology. Something you two have no experience with."

"We have magic, however," the woman argued, "That surely beats your... technology. And now the Guardians are also involved. That bodes ill for us unless you use us to our full potential."

The Baron sighed.

"I don't know anything about these Guardians. Without you I wouldn't know they existed."

"That is how they work. And your agents will be powerless against them," the woman said, "You need our help even more than you intended. Not just against Thor."

The Baron's resistance was wavering. He leaned against a metal table that wouldn't be winning any design awards until the Cold War era came back in fashion.

"Besides," the woman continued, "we did not come here unprepared. We know about this world more than you give us credit, Baron."

The Baron let out yet another sigh. He had been doing that a lot lately.

"Very well, I will let you try. In the meantime, we must wait for the rest of our group."

"We are all here, are we not?"

"There is still a man from China," the man reminded her, "He is in hiding in one of my headquarters, researching, but will be here soon. And once your man and the rest of my agents get back from neutralising Stark, they need to be mobilised for the next phase in my plan."

"And that's it? You are sending measly agents and one alien after them even now that the _Guardians _are on their side?"

The two in the room stopped what they were doing at the new voice that had just joined in the conversation. It was no one they knew, or at least no one they had expected. The Baron scanned the room with furious eyes.

"Who said that?"

"I did," spoke one of the shadows in the corner, and out of it melted a man.

* * *

Toothiana had faced amnesia and all sorts of memory defects before, several times in her centuries of living. The man who called himself the Taskmaster felt very different from all of the other cases. It wasn't the weirdest or the saddest case she had seen, but for a person who specialized in guarding memories, it was very sad nonetheless. Toothiana was let inside the interrogation room where the Taskmaster sat on a chair that looked very uncomfortable in Toothiana's opinion. He seemed unharmed, though, and uncaring of the situation he was in. Toothiana stepped into the room, greeting the man with a soft smile.

The Taskmaster was probably in his thirties. Toothiana was not good at judging people's ages, but she was fairly confident of her guess. That only intensified her confusion. What the Taskmaster was suffering from should not have been possible unless one lived far longer than that. The Taskmaster looked at Toothiana and there was slight surprise in his eyes.

"Tooth Fairy?" he asked incredulously, "She's your next interrogator?"

Toothiana just smiled.

"Hello, Mr. Taskmaster. Or... do you have any other name I could call you with?"

She knew he didn't. She wasn't prying. It had struck her clearly like a bolt of lightning the moment the Taskmaster had tried to hit her. The man's head was buzzing with memories, but among them there was a desperate question about things that everyone usually took for granted.

"The Taskmaster'll do", the Taskmaster said, "I already told y'all: I don't have anything to tell you."

Toothiana nodded understandingly.

"I can see that. You don't know who hired you, am I right?"

The Taskmaster raised an eyebrow but then shrugged.

"That's for ya to find out."

"You are wasting your time, Taskmaster" said Fury, with calm that was clearly before the storm, "You are not leaving this place until you answer us."

"Then better grab some snacks, guys. 'Cause it's gonna take a while."

"We have time," Fury grunted.

"No, ya don't."

Toothiana stepped closer to the man and sat on one of the empty chairs in the room. She had been right: they were very uncomfortable.

"You understand that what you're doing is hurting people, don't you?" she asked quietly, "Didn't your parents teach you that it's not good to hurt others?"

She hated herself for saying that. But she had to make sure that her theory was correct. The Taskmaster snorted, but there was a moment when his mind flared with a question and a wish. Toothiana took a deep breath.

"Do you know why you don't remember things?" she asked.

That was what finally got through the Taskmaster's indifferent shell. The man's eyes widened a bit, and then his face twisted into a snarl.

"I don't know what ya're talking about, fairy," he growled.

"Yes, you do," Toothiana said.

The Taskmaster glared at her, his fists clenching. Toothiana sensed Fury and Natasha's looks in her back. No one spoke for a long moment.

"I remember things a lot," the Taskmaster said defiantly, "I can learn things instantly by just watching. I learned how to shoot a bow just by fighting your Hawkeye-guy for a few minutes."

Natasha and Fury exchanged glances. Toothiana saw a figurative light bulb going off in Fury's mind, but the man remained silent. Toothiana turned back to the Taskmaster.

"That's right," she said, "Your memory is remarkable. In fact, you remember too much. There's not enough room in your head."

"Are ya insulting my intelligence?" the Taskmaster snapped.

"Oh, no! Of course I'm not!"

"What makes you an expert in this stuff, anyway?" the Taskmaster asked gruffly.

Toothiana bowed lightly.

"It's my job. I guard children's memories. I help them remember the things they need."

The Taskmaster snorted again, this time with bitter amusement.

"Then ya've done a shitty job with me."

That stung, but Toothiana had to shake it off for now. She leaned forward in her seat, putting her hands on her knees.

"I can amend that, Mr. Taskmaster..."

"_If _you cooperate with us."

Toothiana turned sharply to look at Fury, who had crossed his arms and was looking at the Taskmaster with very grim triumph in his eyes. Toothiana stood up. What was this man suggesting? Surely he wouldn't... oh, he would, wouldn't he? The Taskmaster narrowed his eyes, but there was conflict behind the glare this time.

"Think about that for a while," said Fury, "We're leaving."

His tone left no room for arguments. Toothiana didn't budge, however. Fury had no right to order her around about memory matters. Fury stopped to look at her with a clear challenge in his eyes.

"We're leaving. If you still want to assist, you will come with us."

"The Taskmaster..."

"...has said everything he's going to say for now," Fury said and the Taskmaster gritted his teeth, "Let's give him time."

Toothiana stood very slowly. She hated to admit it, but she would have to play by Fury's rules while in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters. She might have been the queen of Punjam Hy Loo, but here she was just an unwelcome guest that happened to be of some use. She cast one last, sympathetic look at the Taskmaster before following Natasha and Fury out.

* * *

The intruder's face was grey, his teeth were sharp, and his eyes were a sneaky yellow. The Baron aimed a gun at him immediately, and the woman crossed her arms and glared. The man smiled.

"Ah, you both see me. Good. Well, of course an Asgardian would, but as for the Baron here... well, you do have quite a few fears, don't you? And I guess it isn't that big a stretch to go from Norse gods to boogeymen."

The man seemed to be talking to himself more than to the others in the room. The woman stepped forward, her high heels clicking very pointedly against the tiled floor.

"Kozmotis Pitchiner," she said in a low voice, "I recognise you from the myths."

Pitch Black stopped his musings at the mention of the old name and looked at the woman.

"It's Pitch, actually. Pitch Black. Pitchiner was someone else, and he's long dead."

"What do you want?" the Baron snapped, his gun hand steady, but his trigger finger clearly itching, "Leave us or I will shoot you right now."

Pitch smiled almost pleasantly and spread his arms.

"By all means, Baron, try it, if it makes you feel better. But you should know that I'm here to help you."

There were many thoughts going through the Baron's more than a little paranoid mind. All of them fearful and therefore easy for Pitch to read. The most prominent one was a rather amusing chain of reasoning that ended up in an equation. Stranger plus bullet equals problem solved. The Baron pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Pitch between the eyes, sending his head back and stinging quite a bit. Pitch straightened his posture, hiding the fact that he was still weakened from his previous fights with an even wider smile. He plucked the bullet from his forehead and focused so shadows could stitch his wound shut. The mix of horror and fascination on the Baron's face was totally worth a little bit of pain.

"Now that all your problems are apparently solved, let me tell you why I'm here."

The Baron sputtered and aimed the gun again. The Asgardian woman stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist.

"That would be a waste," she said, "He is of the spirit world. No ordinary steel or lead can bring him down. Not with ease, at least."

"Yes, thank you," Pitch said and laced his fingers together, "I heard of your little expedition to Earth, lady Amora, and decided to investigate. Once I realised what you were going against I was immediately intrigued. This Baron here is leading the operation, right?"

The Baron nodded stiffly. His hood hid every expression but did nothing to hide his fears from Pitch.

"You are aware that a group called the Guardians were involved in taking down you assassin, aren't you?" Pitch asked.

The Baron glanced at Amora and then back at Pitch with evident suspicion.

"They told me that something was wrong with my agents' reports. Something about the supernatural."

"Spirits," Amora corrected, "The Guardians are beings that protect the children of the Earth, mostly."

"Yes, you told me as much."

"And they happen to be my enemies as well," Pitch said and idly flexed his fingers. Nightmare sand gathered around his fingertips, tingling with the promise of power. He still had quite a bit left, "You don't know anything about the Guardians, and the Asgardians' knowledge about them is limited at best."

"And you would give us information?" the Baron asked sceptically.

"I can do better," Pitch said and let the nightmare sand form into a small, twisted shadow creature, "I can give you an army against the Guardians."

"Why? What would you get out of it?"

"He needs protection," Amora said with narrowed eyes, "He puts on a brave front, but I can sense his weakness."

Pitch's smile shrunk a bit.

"You are right. I am still weakened by my previous encounters with the Guardians. But I am almost fully recovered and I'll just get stronger. My army of Fearlings is hiding, but it exists, waiting for my orders."

There were so many fears under the Baron's hood. Pitch felt stronger just by being in his presence. His post-traumatic stress was like a protein shake. He gathered his remaining power and summoned his last Nightmare. The Baron's eyes widened under the hood, not really out of fear this time. The man was impressed. Still suspicious, but impressed. Good. That was all Pitch needed at the moment.

"My power is sufficient to turn the battle in your favour," he said, "So far it hasn't gone according to plan, but there's still time."

Amora watched him with slight contempt, and Pitch glanced back at her. He took note of her fears and stored them in his mind for later. There wasn't too much to go on, but he could use it in an emergency. The Baron was the most promising, however.

"Well," he sighed theatrically, "If my offer doesn't interest you, then I suppose I'll just leave. Have fun facing a team of immortal spirits without me."

He turned to leave, but just as he had expected, the Baron stopped him.

"Wait," he said, his German accent coming through even thicker than before because of his uneasiness, "Let us talk."

Pitch grinned at the shadows and turned back around.

"Of course."

* * *

"So, is it great?" Tony asked from behind his computer.

Jack looked up from the snowflake he had let crystallize on his palm.

"What?"

"Immortality. You know, one of humanity's greatest wishes."

Jack snorted.

"You do know that if people became immortal, this planet wouldn't be able to handle it, right?"

"Well, yeah, among other problems. Still, doesn't stop us from dreaming. So, how is it?"

Jack let out a sigh.

"It's okay, I guess."

"Okay?" Tony repeated, "Human medicine has developed for centuries to help us live longer and all you can say about immortality is 'it's okay'?"

"Yep. Sorry to disappoint."

"Why do I even bother?"

Silence fell, and Jack hoped Tony was done with his questions. He didn't really feel like talking about outliving friends, loneliness, or seeing too much, or any of the other basic downsides of immortality. Tony studied his shoes with a frown that made him look like he wanted to spontaneously develop eye-lasers and burn his feet.

"You're dead, aren't you?" he finally said. It was only barely a question.

Jack pressed his mouth into a thin line. He should have seen this kind of conversation coming back when he had dropped the first hints of his fate. Tony Stark was a very smart guy, one who didn't just let things pass without analysing the hell out of them.

"Aren't you?" Tony asked again.

Jack formed another snowflake and let it fly. It tumbled away with the wind that had sneaked indoors with him.

"I don't know," he said at length, "I guess you'd have to be a bit less lively to be dead, don't you think?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Jack swallowed, trying to make his voice sound less thick, "You want to figure out how we're... made, right? Well, it's a bit different for everyone. In my case, it required dying."

Tony tried to go for the eye-lasers again.

"Wow. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine now. I got ice powers out of it so it was a pretty sweet deal."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About my death? With you? Not really."

"Right."

The silence that followed was of the awkward kind again. Jack hated awkward silences.

"Why the sudden interest in death?" he asked.

"It's not sudden," Tony said, "I lived with shrapnel in my chest for years. I thought many times that I was going to die, and not just because I liked to fight bad guys."

"But you're shrapnel-free now."

"I know. And that's not even... I'm more worried about Pepper now."

"What's wrong with her?" Jack frowned, "Is she dying?"

"No. I don't think so."

Tony sighed.

"She was infected with this virus that made people regenerate from any injury. The downside was that it could also make them, well, explode. I stabilized her, and all the effects seem gone now, but... I honestly don't know if they really are."

"So you're afraid that she could become immortal because of that virus," it wasn't a question, "Yeah, I can see how that might worry you."

"You just said immortality is 'okay'," Tony remarked.

"Yeah, but it's maybe a bit different when you're not invisible to most people."

Tony glanced at him very apologetically. Luckily he seemed to understand at least some of the millions of implications his statement was hiding. Unfortunately it resulted in another uncomfortable silence. Jack was almost relieved when one of Tony's surveillance gadgets started flashing.

"I think that's for you," Jack said and pointed at the blinking light.

Tony was on his feet relatively quickly, given his still not one-hundred-percent condition. He leaned towards the screen and his forehead creased.

"Three guys. They're already on the second floor. How the hell did they get there? My security shouldn't be that crappy!"

Jack was immediately even more alert. He took a better hold of his staff and looked at the closed door that led to the rest of Tony's apartment.

"Don't worry," he said, "Your security is actually pretty impressive. This isn't just a normal break-in."

"Yeah, I know. I kind of might need a bit of assistance right now." Tony looked at Jack rather pointedly.

Jack took the hint. He could see a glance of what Tony's security cameras were showing. Security personnel was strewn all over the lower floors. The three intruders on Tony's screen had managed to take care most of them before the electronic defences were alerted. Weird, but then again, Jack could probably have pulled that off too with enough magical souvenirs from North. The largest of the men was punching remaining security guards left and right, with no worries about the bullets his armour took in the process.

"The defences aren't responding properly," Tony said, "Something's jamming them."

"Then I'll keep those three busy until you get the... stuff fixed," Jack said, swinging his staff on his shoulder.

Tony barely looked up.

"Stun them if you can. Fury probably wants to interrogate them."

Jack made a face at that, but didn't comment. Just because he didn't hold a grudge didn't mean he had forgotten Fury and his interrogations. Sure, it could have been a lot worse but then again, it _could be _a lot worse. He waved his hand at Tony and stepped outside into Tony's corridors. He dropped out of a window, down five floors, slipped back inside and then started looking. He knew they were coming up, probably using elevators. He closed his eyes and listened to the air. It was lazy and warm in the tower, but Jack could still hear the people in the rightmost elevator even through the white noise of warmth. Jack touched the elevator door with his staff, let ice spread over it and pictured the elevator cables freezing. He let the ice spread, and could almost hear the cursing a few floors below. He repeated the process to the rest of the elevators and smiled proudly at his handiwork. Sure, Tony would probably complain at the slight damage freezing the cables would cause, but it was a small price to pay for stopping a kind of odd break-in into his tower.

A loud thump made Jack whirl around. A man stepped into the room and Jack could recognise the man from the security cameras. He had been the one doing most of the floor wiping with the security guards just moments before. He was huge, with a bald head and the kind of grim face that was just begging for a hit with a happy snowball.

"Well, you were quick to get here," Jack said, even though it was very unlikely the man could see or hear him. The man's eyes narrowed and he stared right at Jack. Wait, what?

"Are you going to tell me you see me too?" Jack asked experimentally, "Well, in that case, back off! You're not supposed to break into this place. Or any place, for that matter."

The man marched towards Jack without saying a word. Jack aimed his staff just in case, but suddenly the man dashed, and boy, he was a good dasher. Jack barely had time to blink before he felt a huge hand gripping his collar and lifting him up from the floor like he weighed nothing – which, to be fair, _was _pretty close to what he weighed. The intruder's strength or speed wasn't really what shocked Jack, though. It was the fact that the man could actually see him.

"What the-?" Jack blurted out and gripped the man's forearm, sending ice crawling all over the man's skin. The man's eyes widened and then Jack was flying. He went over a desk and hit the wall with enough force to squeeze all the air our of his lungs. He dropped to the floor, desperately gasping for air. In a couple of heavy steps, the giant of an intruder was standing over him, and when Jack stopped seeing double, he started to notice a couple of odd things about the man. He had stripes on his scalp. Some kind of war paint, maybe. The armour he was wearing seemed rather old-fashioned, too.

"Jokul Frosti," the man grunted with clear disdain, "That explains the ice that trapped the two others into the lifting rooms. What are _you _doing here?"

_Jokul Frosti?_

Then it clicked. Jack hopped back to his feet, his staff protectively held in front of him. He eyed the strange man and tried to think if he remembered him. But no. Jack supposed he was more well-known to the people who called him Jokul than those people were to him. That was fame for you, or in this case, infamy.

"You're Asgardian," he said finally, "One of those trespassers."

The Asgardian's already very grumpy frown deepened further.

"You are in my way. I am here for Stark. Stay out of it."

Jack stepped between the man and the closest way upstairs.

"No," he said defiantly, "I'm here to make sure you _don't _get to him, you... whatever your name is."

He pointed his staff at the man's head, letting icy veins spiral around the ancient stick as a clear threat. It was like turning the safety off. It was also a challenge. One that a self-respecting Asgardian warrior would probably not ignore. He hoped. Tony would probably turn the building against the man at any moment, but until then it was up to Jack to keep him at bay.

The man pulled out a wicked-looking axe. Wicked in both meanings of the word.

"Then you may call me the Executioner, little spirit," he said, "My axe has claimed far better fighters than _you_."

Jack bent his knees and smiled widely. Mostly because he knew it would annoy his new foe.

"Bring it, big guy!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Ha! Made it before December is over! I... am not entirely happy with this, but it's something. At least it's setting up things that will happen later so... yay?**

**So, the Executioner and the Enchantress are characters I researched just for this fic so if there's something wrong with them, please tell me. In fact, all of the major Marvel villains in this story are new to me...**

**Toothiana's power of sensing memories to some extent is mentioned in the books.**

**So, review if you like. I'd love to hear your thoughts, positive and negative about this.**


	6. The Chase Is On

**6\. The Chase Is On**

Natasha knew that Fury had reached a breakthrough. He was walking briskly towards one of his offices, clearly expecting both Natasha and Toothiana to follow him. For a while the only sound was the barely audible, rapid flap of Toothiana's wings. Natasha glanced at the fairy, who was flying beside her. Toothiana looked agitated, and a little insulted. Natasha supposed she couldn't blame her. It was never nice to be reminded of their own failures. Just how many amnesiac children had this self-proclaimed Guardian of Memories overlooked during her career? It wasn't a very nice thought, but then again, Natasha had to admit that she was usually a bit too pragmatic to be nice. The girl in the tooth box of memories that Toothiana had somewhere in her lair had probably been nicer, but Natasha didn't want to waste time thinking about her own forgotten childhood. Not much, anyway. It was just that the mere presence of the Tooth Fairy seemed to push those kinds of thoughts to the surface. It was like people instinctively knew that she was keeping their memories safe. Of course that couldn't be true, Natasha reasoned. It was just idle speculation on her part.

"I know that man," Fury said suddenly.

Natasha raised a brow.

"Who is he?"

Fury stopped at the door to his office and let them in. It wasn't his most impressive or the most secure office – and the fact that Toothiana had been let in made it even less secure than before – but it would do for the time being. Fury made sure the door was closed and then turned back to Natasha, a serious look on his face.

"He's one of our agents."

Natasha couldn't help raising an eyebrow again.

"Really? How did we not notice it before?"

Fury sat down behind a computer screen and made a couple of quick calls. Then he opened up some files on his computer and started clicking.

"Tony Masters," he finally declared, "He wasn't with us for too long before he was killed in action. Or so we thought, at least. We knew precious little about him, just enough to think he was reliable. A mistake, as we can now tell."

He typed something quickly, gloved hands flying over the keyboard with ease.

"Probably everything about his background is faked. It's all very well done, but if he doesn't remember... I'm not sure his name really even is Tony Masters. His condition matches, though, as do his skills and looks."

He turned the screen for Natasha to see. The Taskmaster's unmasked face stared back at her.

"That also explains how someone has managed to check out our weapons and files without raising any red flags until now," Natasha mused, "It's much easier for a hacker to reactivate old codes than fake new ones. And he said he's working for someone..."

"We have to find out who that someone is. In the meantime the only leverage we have are his memories."

He looked meaningfully at Toothiana, whose agitated expression turned into outrage.

"Mr. Fury, I don't think you understand exactly how I work," she said icily.

Fury wasn't perturbed.

"And I don't think you understand the importance of _our _work."

Toothiana huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.

"I know you are concerned with the safety of others, but I came here to determine what was wrong with that assassin. I will _not _withhold his memories for interrogation purposes."

"Can't you just read the memories? Get the info right out of his head?" Natasha asked, sensing an impending fight that wouldn't do any of them any favours. Toothiana looked at Natasha, her muscles visibly relaxing.

"No, not exactly. I can just sense memories, keep them safe, and give them back when they are needed."

_Oh, is that all? c_rossed Natasha's mind, but she knew this wasn't the time for sarcasm. Fury had fallen silent and was contemplating something. Whether that was a diplomatic solution or forcibly removing the Tooth Fairy from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s premises was anyone's guess.

"Fine, then," he said grudgingly, "If you have better ideas, I'm listening. If not, I'll have to ask you to leave. I have work to do."

"Well, I..." Toothiana's outrage dwindled at an alarming rate, giving way to confusion, "What? Just like that?"

"Yes. You didn't want to get involved with us, so don't. Thank you for your help so far."

Fury said it all with the monotone of someone reading courtesy phrases out loud from a book. Toothiana looked at Natasha, who just nodded. The Guardians definitely weren't among the favourite people – or beings – S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to work with, so she would have to leave while things were this peaceful.

Toothiana sighed.

"I'll let you know if I can help, Natasha."

It was specifically directed at her, and Fury no doubt noticed it. He didn't seem to acknowledge it in any way, though. Toothiana left so soundlessly it was like she had never been there. And officially, she hadn't.

* * *

The Executioner took deliberate steps to the side, slowly circling Jack like a bird of prey. Jack knew the man was trying to bait him into circling with him, away from the stairs. He wasn't going to let it work, but he had to admit that he couldn't really stand still either. The Executioner had an axe, and it would probably cleave him in half in one swing. Jack didn't know if spirits could survive stuff like that. He'd never tried it, but he guessed it at least wouldn't be pleasant at all.

The Executioner took a few more steps and then attacked, tired of the circling game Jack didn't want to play in the first place. He was fast, but this time Jack knew it and could time his dodge accordingly. He jumped, soaring over the man's head and shooting ice into the man's chest. The Executioner grunted, staggering back, his armour sporting an impressive formation of icicles. Jack landed and turned, raised his arms and let his natural coldness spread towards the stairway. He raised a wall of ice in the doorway before the Executioner had time to think he'd have a clear way to the top. The Executioner spun around, his frown twisting his face. He didn't waste time for one-liners. Not that he needed to. His frown was like a million death threats at once. He charged.

Jack jumped over the swing of the axe, ducked under the next and tried to find a good gap where to fire his counterattack. It wasn't the easiest task, with the man moving so quickly and expertly. Jack couldn't exactly stop moving either to take aim properly. He had to keep moving and he definitely couldn't back himself into a corner. He needed room for dodging, because otherwise he would have to block and his staff would probably snap like a toothpick after one strike from that axe. Jack definitely didn't like the thought. The memory of Pitch breaking the staff still was a little too fresh in his mind. He flipped backwards over a computer and cringed when the Executioner hit the obviously expensive machine so hard it broke into three pieces in a crunch and a splash of liquid that leaked out from behind the screen. A bleeding computer. Jack hoped Tony wouldn't hold it against him. His insurance wouldn't cover it, especially since there was no such thing as insurance for dead teenagers who broke the laws of physics with their very existence. The Executioner leaped over the corpse of the computer and pointed his axe a bit too dramatically for it to be a proper fighting stance. A moment later Jack realised it wasn't a fighting stance at all. An ominous blast of heat was all the warning Jack got before a ball of fire was hurled at him. He dropped to the floor and felt the heat soaring over his head. That was not good. He could handle a little bit of hot air, and fire wouldn't exactly kill him, but it was one of the most uncomfortable things he knew. He rolled, dodging another blast and scrambled backwards to get another desk between him and the Executioner.

"You cannot win, little Frosti," the Executioner said, "We both thrive in the cold, but I can burn you alive."

Jack pressed his hand against the floor. Small icicles sprouted from it and he watched the Executioner's boots when the massive man started walking around the desk towards his hiding place.

"Actually," Jack said, "You have to catch me first!"

It was a childish thing to say, but Jack didn't really care. He hardly ever cared if he was being childish. Caring about things like that was for the especially boring adults. The Executioner took another step towards the desk and raised his axe. Jack clenched his hand into a fist. There was a surprised grunt when the Executioner suddenly found a cluster of giant icicles bursting from the floor and the desk Jack was hiding behind. Jack left his cover, firing a blast of energy rather than ice at the staggered Executioner. None of the icicles had actually got through the man's armour or skin, but that hadn't been the point. The point had been distraction, and it had worked for the moment. Jack fired another blast, and another when the man was still dazed. The Executioner growled irritably and planted his feet to the floor like a wrestling champion. Jack's next blast barely made him budge. The axe in the man's hand glowed just a bit, and Jack hurriedly jumped to avoid the flames sent to his way. He landed into the stray wind that never really left him and let it lift him up to hover near the ceiling. He needed some time to think. The Executioner seemed barely bothered by Jack's ice, and that was a problem. He had to rely on energy and sharp objects instead, and those were not what he usually called fun things to do with his powers. Not to mention they were much more tiring than just freezing things. He hoped Tony would hurry with whatever he was doing.

A lamp near Jack exploded when he dodged the next attack, and he faintly felt shards of hard plastic hitting him in the cheek. It didn't hurt as much as it distracted him, and against an experienced combatant distractions were deadly. Jack realised his mistake about the same time as a burning ball of energy struck him in the chest and he hit the ceiling with crushing force. The wind dropped him, or he just dropped from the wind, and the floor drove the last of air from his lungs. His head hit the floor and his vision exploded into stars. He scrambled to hands and knees, but a hard, booted foot hit him in the stomach with merciless force. He gasped and rolled onto his back. The bald man hovering over him with an axe prepared to strike was blurry and occasionally there were two of him, but Jack wasn't quite so out of it that he couldn't recognise the danger. He struck out blindly, firing a burst of blue energy that sent the man flying. Jack jumped back to his feet, trying very hard to ignore the burning in his chest and the swimming in his head. The Executioner had crashed through two computers and was halfway out of a broken window. It wasn't a pretty sight. Jack could see shards of bulletproof glass in the man's arms.

"Ouch," Jack said out loud, "Would you now just calm down and tell me why you want to kill Tony? Was that other assassin one of your guys too?"

The Executioner coughed and looked at Jack very murderously. The man's axe was on the floor, out of reach, and Jack moved to kick it even further away. Another mistake, as he realised a split-second later. A sickening feeling of hate and rage surged through him the moment his bare foot touched the weapon. It wasn't his rage, but it might as well have been. It was so strong it hit him like a battering ram and his legs refused to support him anymore. He fell to his knees.

The Executioner detached himself from the glass. Shards of it fell to the floor with a series of _tingles _that were quickly drowned out by the heavy _thunk _of the man's boots. Jack rose gingerly to his feet and backed away, his staff held protectively in front of him.

"Don't move," he said and hoped he could have sounded a little less winded, "Or I'll blast you through that window properly this time."

The Executioner glared at him in a way that seemed to say "Cometh at me, bro", or something like that. He clenched his hands into fists and seemed more than ready to leap at the obviously evil axe. Jack prepared his next blast.

Then the Stark Tower came back to life. The heating went back up and continued rising to uncomfortable levels. The elevators crunched free of the ice, but went down and apparently got stuck in the ground floor. The ice wall at the stairs melted alarmingly fast. The Executioner looked decidedly unimpressed.

"If you think you can stop me with a little bit of heat, you-"

Jack fired a beam of energy at him. Someone else fired too. Two blasts struck the Executioner in the chest and he crashed into the window again. This time he actually went through. Jack hurried after him, way too late to catch the man, and saw the Executioner fall on his knees so hard that the pavement cracked into a crater beneath him. Jack raised his hands defensively and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Tony walking briskly towards him with a some kind of metal glove in his hand.

"I swear I didn't really mean to do that!" Jack said.

"Well, I did," Tony peered downwards through the broken window, "Come on, we need to get down before he gets up."

"Right. Can you turn the heat down? It's getting really uncomfortable in here."

Tony looked up.

"JARVIS?"

"_Right away, sir. I should also inform you that the two men in the elevator just breached the doors the old-fashioned way and are heading outside."_

Tony huffed.

"Remind me to get better doors. And windows. _After _we're done with this."

Jack grabbed Tony by the arm. The man was startled, probably by the coldness of the touch, but Jack didn't have time to care.

"I can get us down faster than an elevator."

"What do you-?"

Jack yanked Tony and himself through the broken window, spiralling down alarmingly fast before the wind eased their descend. He heard a stifled yelp that was so unlike the regular confident Tony Stark that it was almost funny. Tony had a death grip on both of Jack's arms and a death glare in his eyes. Jack landed next to the crater the Executioner had left into the concrete, and Tony let go of him as soon as there was solid ground under their feet.

"Are you crazy?" Tony snapped, "Just because _you _can break the laws of physics doesn't mean _I _can. Not without any gadgets anyway."

"I broke them for you too, you big baby," Jack grinned and then became serious again, "I think those guys just got into that car."

He pointed. A dark grey car was speeding away as quickly as it dared without raising too much suspicion. Jack could see the bald head of the Executioner in the back window. Tony cursed.

"They're _not_ getting away. I'll follow with my car. You try not to lose them while I get it."

"A car?" Jack repeated, "Don't you have any superheroic gadgets with you anymore?"

"Get to flying, Peter Pan!"

Jack smirked one more time before he was on his way. The dark grey car was speeding up, but so was he.

* * *

Steve Rogers felt uncharacteristically lonely while he sat in his apartment, struggling with his computer. It wasn't that he was still hopeless with modern technology – he had actually got the hang of the basics quite quickly once he really had time to figure it out. The problem was that it all seemed to change so fast. And really, what he really wanted to do right now had nothing to do with staring at a screen. He wanted to be out in the field, as he had been for the past few days. The assassin – Taskmaster, Steve reminded himself – had put Fury so much on edge that he had assigned both Natasha and Steve on the case, and had insisted they worked separately. That was probably why Steve felt so lonely. He had got used to working with Natasha, even though they had only shared a few missions together. Not to mention Natasha had already caught the Taskmaster and was with Fury in one of their bases now while Steve was assigned to look for the Taskmaster's employer.

They really had absolutely no leads on the man, so there wasn't much Steve could do at the moment. He had tried calling Tony, but the call hadn't got through. So he was left sitting alone in front of the files Fury had just sent him about the Taskmaster's identity – or what little they knew about it – and all the thin leads they might have had about him or his employer. This definitely wasn't Steve's job, and everyone knew it. By the time he would have read through the files, someone else who actually specialised in information would have much more answers than him. At least it would mean an end to this tedious waiting. Steve rose from his chair and stretched his arms. He needed a break.

There was a knock on the door, and then a doorbell rang. Steve was filling a cup of coffee, but left it to cool down and strode to his door. Who could it be? Had S.H.I.E.L.D. sent someone to pick him up? Unlikely. Fury usually informed him about things like that first. Steve opened the door slightly and was surprised to see the God of Thunder standing on his doorstep.

"Thor?" he said incredulously, "Hello?"

Thor raised his hand in greeting.

"I need to speak with you."

Steve hesitated only a moment before letting his comrade-in-arms in. He had known that Thor was staying more permanently on Earth, but he hadn't had much dealings with the man after that mess with Loki and the Chitauri. He had been too busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. It was definitely odd but strangely comforting to see the Thunder God in plain civilian clothes and ringing his doorbell like a normal person. Somehow he still managed to look very fearsome with his intense eyes and long blond hair that really reminded Steve of the ancient Vikings.

"I tried getting into contact with Mr. Fury, but he is somewhere out of my reach," said Thor once they were inside.

Steve put his coffee mug in front of Thor and poured himself another. It barely filled halfway, but it would do for him at the moment.

"Yeah, he's in one of our bases, I think. Classified location," he took a moment to study Thor and realised the man seemed a bit uneasy. That was not normal for him, "What's wrong?"

"There have been attacks against you, haven't there?" Thor said, looking at Steve for confirmation and Steve could only nod, "Yes, I wish I had been told sooner, but that matters not now."

"I think Fury likes to keep the Avengers out of the loop unless they're really needed," Steve said apologetically, "Unless they're also S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. In which case he keeps us out of the loop unless we're working on a case."

"This assassin... is he still out there?"

"No, he's been caught. Natasha got him."

Thor frowned at the coffee mug, but apparently not because of the coffee itself, considering he took a very hearty swig from the mug next.

"He is caught for now, but we must not underestimate him. Especially not now when I have heard news that two of... my people are here as well."

Steve realised he was staring only after Thor started to look almost worriedly back at him.

"Your people?" Steve repeated, "Are you serious? Is this going to be... no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't assume the worst..."

"I have tried to find them, but they are hiding too well," Thor said, "I know I am getting closer, but they keep moving. I hope I can get some insight as to where to look next from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, they do have connections everywhere... that is a good idea," Steve glanced at his computer. His hands were almost twitching. Finally he'd have something useful to do, "Do you want me to try to patch you to Fury?"

"Yes, that would probably be for the best."

Steve called Fury, and was met with the man's slightly disgruntled face on his computer screen.

"Rogers? What is it?"

"Thor's here," Steve said in the tone of voice people usually reserved for friendly greetings, "You may want to talk to him. He has some news we really should know about."

"Put him on the line," Fury said, but then turned to the side and spoke a few curt words to another computer. Steve frowned. He was getting a bad feeling, like he should be somewhere else, helping someone.

"What's going on there?" he asked.

"Nothing yet," Fury turned back to him, "Just some kind of commotion in the centre of New York. I'll keep you posted if needed. Now let me talk to Thor."

Steve let Thor past to talk to Fury, and looked out of the window. It seemed trouble just popped up wherever they went. Especially in the last few days. Just what was going on?

* * *

"They're getting away!" Tony said rather needlessly, "I can't catch them fast enough at this rate. You'll have to slow them down!"

Jack looked at Tony incredulously. He had kept the grey car in sights for as long as needed until he had seen one of Tony's fast, expensive and apparently sustainable cars speeding up after him. Then he had slowed down enough for Tony to slide down his window and talk to him. The man was gripping the steering wheel of his car with unshakable determination.

"Are you crazy?" Jack shouted back, "I'm not built with super strength that could stop a car!"

Tony glanced at Jack.

"You should be an expert in shitty driving weather. Just do _something_!"

Jack crossed his arms. Tony clearly had no idea nor appreciation on the finer points of his job. Or the bigger points either. He probably shouldn't be surprised. People rarely had insight into the profession of managing winter with magical powers.

"I can't just make the weather bad for one car! All the others will-"

"I don't care what you do, okay?" Tony interrupted him, "Stop them now!"

"Fine, fine!" Jack raised his hands, aware that the calming gesture looked a bit out of place when he was flying sideways fast enough to keep up with a car going way over the speed limit, "Just try to keep up and stay out of the ice."

"What ice?"

"Potential ice. Try to keep up!"

With that, he let the wind sweep him away and towards the dark grey car. Catching it was easy; Jack could make the wind carry him fast enough to make it snow on both sides of the world in one day. He pressed his staff to his chest and made himself as aerodynamic as possible. The wind ruffled his hair and reassured him that he would catch them. He smiled. This was his element. Those three in the car wouldn't stand a chance.

The car barely jolted when he landed on its roof. Jack pondered his options. He could freeze the engine, but that would be dangerous on a crowded street like this. He would have to wait until they turned to an emptier road, which might never happen. Or, his smile turned into a grin, he could make them turn. It was a totally insane idea, but it was also an incredibly fun idea. And fun was Jack's centre. He jumped back into the wind and spread his arms. Snowflakes tumbled from his hands. He hovered above the dark grey car and waited for his chance. The street the car had turned to was still busy – it was New York, after all – but it was now close to Central Park and was also getting closer to a rare break in traffic. Jack hoped it would stay that way once the car reached the next turn. It did, and Jack let his crazy idea loose.

Snow burst on both sides of the road at a wave of Jack's staff. Ice spread under the car's tyres, and Jack focused on it as soon as it started to form. This was precision work if anything was. The sleet on the roads would be extra slippery if he just kept some of the water unfrozen on it. His mind fixed on the water molecules that suddenly threw the car off-balance and then out of control. Jack smirked even wider and landed on the icy road in front of the car. He saw the Executioner shout something at the sight of him, but the other two people in the car were blissfully unaware of Jack's existence. They did seem to be very aware of the fact that their car was about to turn sideways because they had been stupid enough to hit the brakes, though. Jack spun his staff around and lifted it over his head. A tidal wave of snow and ice rose in front of the car, turning it off course and into the Central Park.

Well, it was off the road, at least. Now for the slowing it down -part. Jack leaped back in front of the car, which would probably flip over if it wasn't allowed to stop properly. And Central Park might have been free of cars at the moment, but it definitely was full of living things that didn't want to get crushed by a few tons of flying metal. Jack set the crook of his staff into the frosty grass and started to sprint. Ice trailed behind him, and the car that still hadn't got its wheels properly under it slid on the trail of ice like the biggest curling stone ever.

The people who had braved the slushy weather to go on a stroll in the massive park in the middle of Manhattan had probably not counted for a car sliding almost a mile from the road into the park, somehow missing every pedestrian and tree in the way and slowly sliding to a stop in a not-so-crowded part of the park. Jack hoped he hadn't caused any heart attacks. The car hit a snow bank that hadn't been there a moment ago, stopping completely but quite softly with a rather undignified _flump_. The three men in the car flopped out of it, two of them disoriented and swearing they would move to somewhere where winter was just a myth and where it was never below a shorts and T-shirt temperature. The Executioner was far less perturbed. He was speaking to his fist, telling someone to change their plans and screw subtlety. Well, in a more archaic way, but that was what Jack gathered from it. Jack sprinted the last few feet to his targets and pointed his staff.

"Oh no, you guys aren't going anywhere!"

The poor, already quite harrowed agents yelped when they realised their shoes had just frozen to the ground with no apparent explanation as to why. The Executioner cast a very sharp look at Jack.

"Little Frosti, you do _not _want to get in our way again."

And then, with little theatrics, the three faded away from view. Jack fired a bolt of ice at the spot where the Executioner had been standing a second ago and let out a mild curse. One that was still appropriate for a children's fairytale character.

Tony caught up with him a while later, jogging forcefully and breathing heavily as one might expect from a guy who had had two lung-related surgeries in a short period of time.

"Where are they?" he asked breathlessly.

"They escaped," Jack said, "I think they thought they'd be subtle and use a car to get somewhere less crowded, but then decided to forget about it after... well, this.

He motioned at the car that was half buried in the snow. The car's radio was still on and it was blasting out some pop song that was apparently about butts, a popular musical subject Jack would never understand the appeal of. Tony nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I'd say that would make someone to screw all plans and just want to get home early."

"Someone teleported them away," Jack added.

The curse Tony let out was far less innocent than what Jack had said a while ago.

"Great, so this was all a waste of time."

"Hey, you're still alive," Jack pointed out, "And we know some more about this mess. And I got to play curling with a car. Did you see that? Pretty awesome, huh?"

Tony rubbed his face with his hands.

"I'm way too sober for this. Hell, _anything _is way too sober for this."

"You're welcome," Jack said dryly, "You think we should call someone?"

"Yeah. My insurance people and my lawyers. Also, Fury."

"Hey, cheer up, Stark! At least now we know for sure we're in this together!"

Tony sighed.

"Yay," he said, in the most unconvincing cheer ever. His cell phone beeped and he answered with a flick of his finger. He listened and his face paled alarmingly fast.

"_Shit_!"

"What? What is it?"

Tony lowered his phone and slowly wiped a hand across his face.

"They didn't just want to kill me," he said and suddenly sounded very tired, "They wanted to cripple the tower."

Jack turned to look at the horizon that was mostly trees at the moment. A trail of smoke rose from the direction of Stark's tower. Tony was already running back towards his car and Jack followed automatically as if Tony had a spirit magnet in the back of his head.

"Those two guys in the elevator," Tony struggled to say while he ran, "They planted a bomb in there. I told JARVIS to focus on defending the tower from outside attacks, but... I should have known... We're damn lucky the tower was almost empty. And that you decided to dive bomb us out the window."

Jack might have smirked and said something along the lines of "I told you so" in some other situation. But right now, when Tony's face was getting ashen and the sirens in the distance finally broke through the foliage and their adrenaline-soaked hearing, it really wasn't the time. Tony slipped into the car, and Jack slid wordlessly next to him to the passenger seat. Jack leaned to the window and it frosted over immediately. The rock song Tony had picked out felt like it was just trying to drown out the utter awfulness this day had just turned out to be full of. They still didn't know if these people had any kind of rational plan or if they just attacked randomly. But whatever the case was, they were just getting more and more serious.

* * *

Amora was disappointed. His lackey, Skurge, had been sent to deal with that man, Stark, but even he had fallen prey to the defences the man had in his tower. Well, at least they had succeeded in destroying the tower. According to the Baron, it would keep Stark out of the fight long enough for them to start the next phase of the plan. Not that their attack seemed very coherent. The Baron had clearly planned his revenge for long, but now he was just lashing out without patience. Amora's perfect lips twisted into an amused smile. The man had lived longer than most Earthlings, but his life was but an instant compared to the long lives of the Asgardians. It was like watching a child who thought he was a grown man stumble from one slip-up to another.

Amora crossed her legs and sat back, watching the other people in the room with mild distaste. The man from the place called China was finally here, glowing green and trying very hard to keep his inner glow from destroying his mortal companions. Skurge was there too, back to his place by her side. The Baron was talking to Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, who seemed just as unimpressed by their progress as Amora was.

Really, Amora could amuse herself by watching these people squirm towards their pathetic goals for a while. Especially since it would lead her to her true prize. Thor Odinson had probably already caught her trail. He was looking for her just as she was looking for him. They would find each other, and then... Amora glanced at Skurge, who looked back at her with sheer adoration. Then she would have no need for Skurge, or any one of these fools for that matter. Until then she would wait. She was a patient woman, so a few setbacks wouldn't bother her. The next time she would probably have to step into the field herself, though. One could only watch these people bumble about for so long.

Suddenly the Baron straightened his posture and broke from the conversation with the Boogeyman. Amora had to admit that the Baron could have quite a presence when he wanted to. If the room hadn't been filled with others with equal or greater presence he would have actually looked rather striking.

"Well, gentlemen," the Baron said, "And lady. My plans are coming along very well given the circumstances, but our enemy is even better protected now than I thought. But now we are all here, and with Mr. Black taken to account our power is greater than I had at first anticipated. We are finally ready to move to the next phase. To strike when our enemy is distracted by our first moves."

Finally, some proper action. Amora smiled greedily.

"I agree," she said, "But I have word of the more powerful foes we are yet to face. Thor Odinson is with them, as is the man who in the end struck down Loki himself."

"Yes, I know," the Baron admitted, "We will get to them soon."

"I can take care of Thor," Amora said immediately, "I know exactly what to do with him."

She could have sworn she saw Pitch Black smirk at her words, but she decided to ignore that. The Boogeyman was all talk right now. She sensed how weak he really was.

"Not yet, I need you here, Enchantress," the Baron said and clearly believed he had the right to give her orders, "I have finally located the material I need to finish my weapon. The crowning jewel to my revenge. I will send you and your bodyguard after it."

Amora clenched her hands into fists.

"But Thor is one of us. _I_ know how to handle him."

"Once the material is retrieved, you can assist in that. But I can't delay this any longer."

Amora took a deep breath. She had just prided herself about her patience. This was just a minor detour.

"Very well. But after that, Thor is mine."

The Baron nodded.

"Yes, I believe I can promise you that."

Amora smiled again, this time more like a predator.

"Yes, you will."

Their meeting ended soon after that, and Amora excused herself. They had a long journey ahead, and she needed to be prepared. Skurge followed her like a shadow, but this time she knew something was bothering him.

"Mistress Amora..." Skurge finally said, an almost pleading edge to his voice, "I need to speak with you."

"What about?" Amora asked, not turning around to look at the man.

"My axe... it was lost in Stark's tower."

"What?" Amora whirled around that time, looking at Skurge's ashamed face, "I have never seen you lose a weapon before!"

"Jokul Frosti was there," Skurge said gruffly, "I had not expected him. He and Stark took me by surprise."

Amora shook her head slowly, almost with pity.

"Oh, my dear. What am I going to do with you?"

"Worry not, mistress," Skurge breathed, taking a step towards her and closing his large hands around her shoulders, "I will get it back, and I will kill them."

"Yes, Skurge, darling," Amora said and hid her mocking tone so well that Skurge didn't notice it. She brushed the man's cheek with her hand, "Yes, you will. Surely one little snow sprite and a mortal man will not be too much for you."

"No, mistress. I swear, the next time I see them, they are dead."

"Good, I am glad to hear it."

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, I apparently can't let Tony catch a break. Sorry, dude. I'm also sorry it took so friggin' long to get this chapter out, but the thing is... well, I didn't write ****_anything _****that wasn't school-related in the entire January and after that I've only managed a couple of good writing sessions. I've had long school days and I started my year with a prolonged case of sinusitis that triggered – among other things – a string of migraines that kept me in a really sucky condition for the first half of January. And the start of February... and it struck ****_again_**** in March. Well, things are finally getting back to less exhausting school work and I'm actually finally starting to get better, so I have energy and inspiration to write again. If there are still some readers out there that haven't given up on me, I am very thankful for sticking with me.**

**This is the point where I should start to get the plot really going, but I really have no idea yet how to do it. I have a few points where I want this story to get eventually, but right now I really need time to get my thoughts in order. So I'm sorry, but I'm guessing the next chapter won't be out in a while... Well, I'll try to get it out faster than this one at least. There are just ****_so_**** many characters to keep track of that I really need to think how I'm going to get them all into the plot and give them a good amount of screen time.**

**If there's a character that you think isn't getting enough screen/page time, do tell me. I might sometimes forget someone for a while and then realise I should probably do something with them. There will be more scenes with characters that haven't been in the story much yet. Also, feel free to point out plot holes, inconsistencies and general awfulness if you spot some.**

**I realised a while ago that while this is very hard to write and I feel like I suck at it, it ****_is _****a fanfic with a comic book plot that I'm trying to somewhat adapt to the film universe and keep the tone sort of like a Marvel film ****_and _****keep the idealism and whimsy of the ****_Guardians _****in it as well. And with the Guardians I'm trying to mix books and films as well, so it's no wonder it feel hard to write at some points. What have I gotten myself into...? Oh, well, it's fun, so I probably shouldn't complain.**

**Do tell me what you think about the story if you like. I certainly would like it if you told me!**


	7. Bloodaxe

**7\. Bloodaxe**

Fury was frowning. That really wasn't anything new, but the recent events especially had set him clearly even more on edge than usually.

"Two more Asgardians?" he repeated sternly, "And you waited until now to tell us?"

Thor looked almost uncomfortable. Steve didn't remember seeing the Thunder God quite like it ever before.

"I had assumed you would know," Thor said, "You people usually do."

Fury's frown deepened, and Steve suppressed a smile. Thor had just… what was it that people said nowadays? Burned? Yes, Thor had just burned the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and got away with it.

"We have had other things to worry about as well," Fury said, "We would have hoped your people would keep closer tabs on trips to this world after Loki. But no matter, tell me more."

"I know very little," Thor admitted, "I was hoping to get more insight from you."

"Well, you won't."

"I do know they have been in contact with a man named Henrik… no, Heinrich Zemo."

Steve frowned at that.

"Heinrich Zemo?" he repeated, "Why does that sound familiar?"

Fury pressed a few buttons and then stopped to glance at some other screen. Apparently the news from New York didn't lift his spirits at all.

"The commotion is centred around Stark's Tower," Fury said, "Nothing major yet, but I have my field agents there ready."

"Is Tony in trouble?" Steve asked. It wouldn't be the first time, but at this point it was probably even less welcome than before. Tony was without his suit, and had just been severely injured. Of course, he did have a bunch of tricks up his technologically modified sleeve, but one's technology and luck could only go so far…

"We don't know yet," replied Fury, "I'll have to keep this brief. Our latest records of a Heinrich Zemo are just historical facts. The Zemo family line hailed from Germany before it disappeared in the Forties. The last known man in the family was Heinrich."

"So it can't be him?" Steve said, "Wait… Zemo…"

He could feel a mild headache building up. His time in ice had put some of his memories to hibernation, but now they were waking up again.

"From Castle Zemo?" he finally said, "In… Bavaria, was it? I was there during the war, disabling anti-aircraft forces."

Fury made a couple of quick searches and nodded.

"Yes, you were. It was a fairly small operation. This Zemo was affiliated with HYDRA, but according to our records, he was quietly swept under the rug and then killed. He had no descendants."

"So it's probably a fake name, and finding the Asgardians through Zemo is not likely?" Steve said and sighed, "Sorry, Thor."

Something beeped near Fury, and Fury looked at the New York screens again.

"I have to focus on this now. Rogers, Thor, get yourselves here as soon as possible. This conversation isn't over."

"Will do," said Steve, and the screen went blank, "Well, looks like we're getting back in business."

* * *

The rescue vehicles were driving around with determined purpose, kind of like very loud, huge ants. The Stark Tower had smoke coming out of the broken windows, but otherwise it was in deceptively good condition. The reinforced walls and windows had held for the most part, but it was clear to everyone who knew what was going on that the inside of the tower was a mess. The few employers who had been in for the moment had been taken out to the ambulances that were waiting outside, blue lights flashing the threats of migraines in Tony's overstressed head. Tony felt very tired. He had parked his car against at least five regulations, but he really didn't care if it was double-parked sideways halfway on the pavement and had the passenger's door still open hazardously. Right now he just cared that his staff was mostly okay and that Pepper had been out of the tower when it had crashed and burned. She had been just as quick to return to the scene as Tony had been after hearing about the explosion, and was now firmly in Tony's embrace. They were both equally determined to keep each other safe.

"Are you okay?" Pepper asked for the fifth time. Mostly because Tony hadn't answered in the first four.

"I will be," Tony choked out this time, "I'm just glad there were no casualties… mostly anyway."

He cast a look at one of the stretchers, where the patient was completely covered. He would have some bad news to deliver to some family. Pepper hugged him tighter.

"What happened?" she asked.

Tony stood silent and wondered how much he could tell her. He didn't want to keep secrets from her, especially since she was the person he trusted the most, but this…

"An attack", he said, "They got away. I'll tell you more once there's less chaos around here."

Pepper looked at him in the eyes as if searching for confirmation, and then nodded.

"We'll get this sorted out," she said and sounded more determined than Tony felt. It made everything a little better. Tony managed to smile.

"Yeah, we will. But that means someone has to do damage control at Stark Industries as soon as possible."

Pepper frowned.

"You want me to leave you already?"

"No, I don't _want _you to, but someone has to go there, and I'm pretty sure these paramedics won't let me go without checking me first."

Pepper sighed.

"Yeah, you're right. But couldn't it-?"

Tony quickly kissed her.

"I'll call you as soon as they're ready here."

Tony hated doing this. He didn't want to leave Pepper hanging and push her into work while there was all this going on, but he wanted to keep her safe. Yes, the Extremis incident had made him fear for her more than he probably should have. Or then just enough. And in any case, Tony had to get back into his tower to make sure everything was fine, and Pepper would not be okay with it. Not to mention this whole attack had gods and Guardians involved, so trying to explain it here would just be idiotic.

So, as much as it hurt him, he watched Pepper go away again, and then he submitted to the nosy paramedic who wanted to check him for injuries. After giving him a rant about such severe exertion so soon after the surgery but finding nothing wrong except for a couple of bruises, the woman moved on, and Tony was left sitting near an ambulance and watching the smoke and the cars rolling by. He felt oddly empty and lost. It wasn't his preferred state of mind.

"Tony," said a voice that was usually annoyingly peppy, but was now almost appropriately sombre, "That man, the Executioner, left his weapon in there."

Tony looked at Jack Frost, who had been standing on the sidelines, probably because Tony was fairly sure he was the only person around who saw Jack. Now he had inched his way to Tony's side and tugged at his sleeve like a kid lost at the mall.

"What about it?" Tony whispered and tried very hard to look like he wasn't talking to himself. Most of the people around were farther away, but one never knew...

"It was wrong, when I kicked it away it felt so... angry," Jack frowned at his own words, "I really don't want anyone taking it."

"What were you planning, then? Taking it yourself?"

"Well, yeah. It's magical, so North could probably make sense of it."

Tony sighed.

"Well, go get it then. No, hold on. I'm coming with you. I need to see... well..."

He waved his hand vaguely towards the direction of his tower. Jack thankfully didn't need further explanations.

The rescue worker at the door tried to stop Tony, but Tony was quick to cut any fatherly chastising short.

"Look, your people just said it's safe to go in as long as I use the stairs. I really want to see what was done to my workplace and my home."

The rescue worker opened and closed his mouth, but then reluctantly let Tony pass. He didn't seem to find it odd that Tony held the door open just a little longer than necessary.

The lobby looked surprisingly good. The elevator doors were a little bit blackened, but it was obvious the elevator hadn't been at the ground floor anymore when it had exploded. It was eerily quiet. It just wasn't normal for the lower floors of the tower to be so empty. Tony walked briskly to the stairs that had survived the explosion very well.

"It's almost all the way up," Jack said, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Just because I'm not Iron Man doesn't mean I'm suddenly in a terrible condition."

"Yeah, but you were just shot in the lung a couple of days ago."

"And you don't have body heat. What's your point?"

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Fine, let's just go."

They trudged up the stairs, and the air seemed to get steadily thicker the closer they were to the top. Tony could feel his lungs protesting, but it wasn't so bad that he would need to start complaining. Especially to the snarky winter kid who at the moment was his only company. The floor Jack and the Executioner had used as a battlefield looked terrible, and Tony took a second to mourn his state-of-the-art computers that had been reduced to sad piles of junk. Jack immediately ran to where the Executioner's weapon lay.

"It's still here. Thank the Moon..."

It was a simple axe. The kind of axe that looked very good a cleaving things in half, which in Tony's opinion meant it was a very well-designed axe. Jack looked very uncomfortable standing near it, and Tony figured it had something to do with the anger Jack had apparently sensed emanating from the weapon.

"So, aren't you going to take it?"

Jack shook his head.

"No way, I'm not touching it. Maybe... hmm..."

He tapped his staff against the floor and ice started growing out of it. It was fascinating to see such blatant disregard to the laws of nature in effect. Jack just seemed to spread coldness instead of moving around heat. Jack waved his staff and the ice moved like solid water – which it of course was – to encase the axe in a big rectangular block. Jack titled his head thoughtfully like an artist appraising his own work and then tapped the staff against the edge of the block.

The block grew dozens of tiny legs that seemed very ready to move. Tony stared.

"Did you just make that thing _alive_?"

Jack stared back at Tony like he had gone crazy.

"What? No, of course not. I'm just moving the ice. It's not really alive; that would be stupid."

"Oh, okay. Because _that _would be the thing that broke my suspension of disbelief."

"Man, your sarcasm is so obviously defensive right now," Jack said with the certainty of a person who was very familiar with humour as a defence.

Jack pulled a gleaming ball of glass from his pocket. Tony recognised it as a similar snowglobe as the ones Santa Claus used. He also remembered Jack using one when he had broken into Tony's tower for the first time. He tossed it to the floor and it burst into a rapidly swirling wormhole that would make physicists scratch their heads.

"Well," Jack said and saluted playfully, "I'd love to stay and help you, but I've got work to do. The sooner I get this thing to North the sooner we'll get answers about that guy. See you around."

"Sure. Don't forget your Luggage, Freezewind."

Tony watched Jack and the walking ice cube take a step towards the portal. He felt the barely noticeable pull of the wormhole that made his legs move automatically towards it. His tower was busted, but the people were safe. As long as they weren't around him, clearly. But Tony was left without his best gadgets that could help the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. with this ever-growing mess. He was hurt, beaten, and stuck, and he hated it. With that in mind, he made his decision in the second it took Jack to step all the way through the portal. Tony lunged forward after the boy, catching a hold of his arm just before the portal closed behind them.

It was a strange feeling, walking a step that took him thousands of miles through a swirl of colours and light. It was over way too fast for the human body to process, and Tony only had time to think that walking through a strange portal definitely wasn't his brightest idea – and that he should have learned that by now seeing how he had already almost died by flying through a wormhole. Then he was on solid ground again. The room he had materialised into was cosy, with a fireplace and a very plump couch as well as walls lined with impressively high and stuffed bookcases. Not that Tony had much incentive to appreciate nice rooms at the moment. He felt like someone had tried to carve out his insides with an ice cream scoop and he couldn't trust his legs to walk without giving out. He felt Jack trying to squirm free from the hold he had of the boy's bony arm.

"Hey! Let go of me!" Jack snapped, tugging his arm even though it was clear he was physically much weaker than Tony.

Tony let go, and Jack stumbled backwards. The boy glared at him chillingly.

"What the heck are you doing here anyway? What made you think it was a good idea to follow me through? You were supposed to-"

Jack was interrupted mid-rant when a bunch of... something small scurried past their legs in a hurry. They jingled and bumped into each other and grinned widely beneath their pointy red hats. They gathered around the ice luggage, and Jack was quick to shoo them away with a swing of his staff.

"That's not for you guys! Get North here if you really want to help! We have a problem."

The pointy things looked disappointedly at Jack, who crossed his arms and raised his brows.

"Go, or I'll make garden gnomes out of you all!"

That got their attention. They jumped over each other and clambered away. Tony stared after them, a string of deduction taking him to a conclusion he in retrospect should have seen coming when he stepped into the portal.

"I'm in Santa's workshop," he said wearily, "Aren't I?"

Jack turned his attention back to Tony and his face darkened again in anger.

"Well, duh! What did you expect? You jump after me in a portal and now you're in a place you really _shouldn't _be in, and-!"

"Oh, like you're a poster boy for responsibility!" Tony snapped, "I'm here because I'm not about to sit back and wait while people are actively trying to kill me and my friends!"

Jack took a deep breath. Tony shivered when the temperature in the room dropped considerably. The pointy things that Tony now assumed were Christmas elves returned, tripping over and almost getting tangled in a long trail of power cord one of them was carrying. They were followed by much larger and softer footfalls, and the doorway of the room was obscured by the mighty form of the Santa Claus.

"Jack? Elves said you were back."

Santa's – or North's, as the Guardians called him – eyes fell on Tony and he folded his arms. Tony remembered that the last time he had seen the man he had been wearing a coat all the time. Now his sleeves were rolled up, and Tony saw the man's burly arms were tattooed quite thoroughly. Well, that was one more thing the popular depictions left out of the jolly old man.

"Jack," North said sternly, his bushy eyebrows furrowing, "Why did you bring Mr. Stark with you to workshop?"

"I didn't!" Jack exclaimed, "He grabbed me when I was going through a portal!"

"That's right, I did," Tony raised his hands diplomatically, "And I'm sorry. I just really need some answers and I think you people are the only ones who can give them to me right now."

"You are trespassing in my home," North said, "Is not very nice."

"Hey, Frost trespassed in my tower first."

Tony was fully aware that it wasn't the best thing he could have said in his defence. Somehow being around the Guardians made everyone act a little less grown-up at times. The Santa Claus sighed and rubbed his bearded face in obvious annoyance.

"Well, in any case, I had some important news!" said Jack, thankfully diverting North's attention from Tony, "One of the Asgardians Mother Nature told us about attacked Stark's home, and he had _this_."

He motioned to the walking ice cube. North crouched down in front of it, immediately becoming more serious. His bushy eyebrows furrowed.

"This axe is… very hateful," he said, "And old…"

"Yeah," Jack replied, "I figured as much. I touched it, and it just… wasn't right. That's why I brought it here. Do you know anything about it?"

North thought about it for a moment.

"No," he finally said, "But you did good, bringing it here. Here is safer. And I can start studying it right away."

He looked back up at Tony.

"But he is still here," he sighed, "Is way too close to Christmas. I have no time for dealing with intruders."

If Tony had had doubts of this idea being good before, they now grew exponentially. He was in what he assumed was the North Pole, with no back up and with a disgruntled Santa Claus and an angry winter spirit glaring at him.

"Look, I really don't want any trouble. I just want to do something about this whole mess. And I figured..." he trailed off when North frowned. North had a very impressive frown, the kind that made Tony feel like a little kid with his hand caught in a cookie jar.

"You didn't figure much anything, I think," North said, "You acted because you were desperate."

He paused, and Tony really hoped he wouldn't start reprimanding him any further. This was just getting embarrassing. Luckily, the Santa Claus just hummed thoughtfully and shook his head.

"Well, can't be helped now. Will not hold this against you. I know people are after you. Maybe is good to wait hidden for a while."

"You're letting him stay here?" Jack asked incredulously, "Why?"

"Because is a nice thing to do," North paused thoughtfully again, "But Mr. Stark needs to be guarded. Many delicate electronics in here. Can't let him too close to them."

"Let me guess," Jack said, "That'll be my job?"

North chuckled merrily.

"Jack, I don't trust you with my electronics either. I get couple of yetis to watch him."

Jack whooped and jumped into the air. A gust of wind blew through Tony's jacket and made him shiver.

"But," said North, "You still go with him. Is good to know both troublemakers are in one place."

"Aw, but Noooo-_ooorth_!" Jack whined, with a perfect whiny teenager voice that would probably work on most adults just because they didn't want to hear it for more than two seconds, "I want to help you with the axe!"

"I let you know if I need help," North said calmly, seemingly unaffected by the whining, "In meantime, stay out of trouble. Both of you."

A couple of giant, hairy things appeared in the doorway at seemingly a wave of North's hand. Yetis? This hadn't been in the official myths either. Jack waved at them.

"Hi, Phil! Hi, Tad!"

The yetis grumbled out something unintelligible. Tony started to really think going through a strange portal hadn't been one of his best ideas.

* * *

Amora took a few deeps breaths and immediately regretted it. The Earth's atmosphere was very different from that of Asgard. Mainly, it was filthier, and not much to her liking at all. Really, the only reason she tolerated this place to begin with was because it would lead her to Thor. She had waited far too long to see him again.

Amora hadn't met any man who had impressed her as greatly as the prince of Asgard himself. Thor Odinson was powerful, handsome, and knew his great standing among the Asgardians. She had met him only a couple of times before her studies with her harsh teacher had whisked her away from him. They had spoken but a couple of times, and Thor hadn't seemed to give her much notice. It had made her feel rejected, but she had known that with time, Thor would come to see the light that was her. She had become so much stronger than the pitiful student of a sorceress she had been then. She was beautiful, powerful, and she could bend men to her every whim. And when she had returned from her training, Thor had been gone to Earth. Among measly mortals. Such a waste. Amora wouldn't let such a thing stop her. If navigating this world meant allying with the bitter man who happened to be going places where Thor would most likely show, then so be it.

What she didn't really want to deal with was the man ordering her around like she was his maid. She should have shown him his place, but then she would have lost her new, valuable allies. Especially now, when the man had quite impressively got the glowing, radiating man on his side. And then the Boogeyman had shown up on his own volition. That had put Amora on edge. She knew little of the man who called himself Pitch Black, but she knew enough to know that he was sneaky. One who could rarely be trusted. What he wanted now was anyone's guess. Amora had to stay on her guard.

There were a couple of the Baron's lowly agents waiting for her in the location she had been given and where she had been in a couple of instances. Skurge was standing by her side, like he always was, and he stayed obediently quiet when Amora walked across the barren wasteland they had arrived in.

"You are the Baron's miner?" one of the men said dubiously, "That dress's not for mining."

Amora silenced him and his partner with a look. The partner hadn't even said anything yet, but his eyes told her that anything that might have come out of his mouth would have been lewd at best. Their condescending looks changed to that of nervousness when Amora strode past them. She could have made them fall to her feet and worship her, but right now she didn't want to bother. Besides, there was no need to make Skurge jealous just yet.

The object they needed to retrieve was a piece of very rare, very special, and very hard to obtain mineral. That much the Baron had explained to her. Amora scoffed at the open mine in front of her. Men had covertly dug up a tiny piece of strange, shiny metal that was still firmly in the ground, and the Baron didn't have the manpower to get it loose. She sighed. The Baron was using her for such menial tasks. She would have to talk to the man about this.

She raised her hands and focused. A blast of energy shot into the spot the agents had pointed out to her. She heard gasps behind her, and Skurge moved to guard her back better.

"What the hell are you doing? The boss wants that thing!"

"I think this mineral is far stronger than the rock around it," Amora replied evenly. She flicked her wrist and the now free chunk of mineral levitated into her hand. The two men stared at it, then at her. Amora smiled. Making hapless people swoon never seemed to get old. The mortals here seemed even more susceptible to her allure than others. Although… she glanced at her long, manicured fingers. Her powers did seem weaker here. It must have been because she was so far away from Asgard and its natural magical energy. It didn't matter. Her power was still more than enough to handle things here. And once she found Thor… she smiled to herself.

"Is everything well, Amora?" Skurge asked.

"Yes, dear," Amora replied, "Come, let us go back. And you two, I hope you find something more useful to do now that I have done your job for you."

With that, she held out her hand for Skurge, who took it eagerly and they were on their way back.

The two men left at the secret, tiny mine suddenly shivered when the wind picked up. One of them looked up.

"Looks like a thunderstorm's coming this way."

"What the hell?" the other said, "It was sunny just a moment ago!"

"Hey, that's weather for ya. It's like it sometimes just gets angry."

"Don't be stupid, Don! Weather doesn't get angry!"

The two continued arguing for a while, but never came to a conclusion, even though the man named Don was actually very spot on with his theory on angry weather.

Mother Nature looked at the spot where Amora and Skurge had stood moments ago, and clenched her hands into fists. They had focused on the wrong things all along, and now those two had got away with their power source. She had been too late.

* * *

Tony Stark was convinced that he had possibly died and gone into some kind of Nirvana that just happened to look like a Christmas themed acid trip. After some pestering the yetis had agreed to show him around just a little bit, but even that little bit was enough to make Tony completely reform his mental image of Santa Claus. And the new mental image was this: Santa Claus, also known as Nicholas St. North, was a kindred spirit to Tony Stark.

The whole place was filled with inventions of all kinds. The workshop area – even though the yetis didn't let Tony very close to it – looked like a mix between an arts and crafts workshop and a high tech factory. The gadgets Tony saw lying around in every corner of the place seemed to be years ahead of what was seen in stores around the world. The fact that North seemed to have liberally mixed tech and something that would have to be called advanced magic made the things rather hard to replicate for mass production, but that was beside the point. The point was that Tony was like a kid in a candy store. Or a toy store, since this was pretty much what it was. Even though the toys weren't for sale and would be given away for free at Christmas.

Jack seemed to have got used to the shiny bunch of tech, and he was mostly just fidgeting and waiting for North to let him help with the axe, and Tony had to admit that he was curious about it too. But he could definitely wait for a while if it meant getting to examine the wonders of Santa's workshop. The yetis were a pain, though. They were shooting death glares at him all the time and usually physically steered him away from the more delicate electronics.

"Are they always like this?" Tony asked Jack when the yetis had set him down after dragging him away from an especially interesting piece of tech for the fifteenth time.

"Yep," said Jack and hopped over an elf that scurried by, "They're really overprotective of the place, and North. But they're fun once you get to know them."

One of the yetis near Tony growled.

"Yeah, I'm sure they are," Tony said, "What about the elves? They seem… energetic."

"Yeah, they don't do much except cause mayhem. They're fun to freeze, though. It never hurts them. Much."

"That's twisted."

"Maybe."

Tony shifted a little farther away from Jack. Just then, North's booming, Russian accented voice echoed in the hallway they were sitting in.

"Jack! Where are you?"

Jack jumped up, eyes lighting up enthusiastically.

"Over here, North! Did you figure it out? Can I help?"

North's large form came to view. He was carrying with him a shimmering force field that held the axe in suspension. Even from this distance, it seemed to give Jack the creeps. North looked at both of them grimly.

"You both should come with me to my study," he said, "I did find something out."

He led them away from the room they'd been waiting in, and Tony couldn't resist asking questions about the technology around them. To his surprise, North answered most of them good-naturedly and didn't even try to hide any company secrets. Although, Tony guessed that the amicable answers weren't nearly as comprehensive as they would have had to be for him to start replicating the things he saw around him. Not that he wanted to.

"Why is it so surprising that I am inventor?" North asked, probably noticing Tony's slightly amazed expression, "How did you think Santa Claus _can _make all the toys?"

"I just… well, I never thought about it that way. To be honest, believing in Santa Claus never was on my priority list."

"Well, at least now you believe. We need that."

"Yeah, so I've heard," Tony said, "How _did _you invent all this stuff? A lot of it is years ahead of what we have elsewhere."

"Lots of studying, ingenuity, and magic," North said simply, "I had good teacher for the magic part, and ingenuity is all my own. My first invention was a djinni. A robot that could do almost anything and work as a transport too. That was centuries ago."

"You created the world's first giant robot?" Tony asked incredulously.

North chuckled.

"Wasn't my greatest idea, to be honest. Pitch corrupted it, and it turned against me. You should be careful with your inventions too."

"Yeah, I've learned."

"Have you really?"

Tony heard Jack stifle a laugh, but decided to ignore that and the subtle scolding he'd just got from Santa Claus. He decided to leave fanboying about the tech for a later time, when there wasn't a possibly evil axe floating in front of them.

Santa Claus's study was just as cosy as every storybook made it sound like. There was a very definite Russian theme in it, though, with the matryoshka dolls and what seemed to be a samovar on the desk. There was also a giant block of ice there, along with a chainsaw. Judging by the already finished ice sculptures near it, North liked to sculpt a lot. Interesting.

North settled behind a desk and let the force field bound axe hover in front of him.

"This is called Bloodaxe," he said and waved his arms dramatically, "Old, Asgardian weapon. It can shoot ice and fire, as well as teleport the wielder to an extent. Is also infected with the bloodlust of its wielder. No one should touch it. It would probably drive them insane."

"Jack touched it," Tony pointed out and Jack had paled even more than usual, if that was possible, "He seems just fine to me."

"Jack is a Guardian, and a spirit," North said, "Don't worry, Jack. Your centre protected you. But you did well not touching it again."

"Yeah, thanks," Jack said shakily.

"What do you know about the buy who wielded it?" Tony asked, "He just wrecked my tower."

North shook his head apologetically.

"I don't know much of him, but is clear that he is a driven killer. And Asgardian, which makes him very dangerous. He is still out there, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he got away. For now."

North stared intently at the almost innocent looking weapon that was trapped on his desk.

"This is getting serious," he said at length, "We have to make sure this doesn't go more out of hand."

"What are we going to do?" Jack asked.

North stood up.

"We call for meeting."

He glanced at Tony.

"And Mr. Stark, perhaps you should inform your Avenger-friends about this too."

"You have reception here?" Tony asked.

"Excellent reception. And free Wi-Fi. All untraceable."

Tony grinned.

"Man, I love this place already."

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, so, so sorry to leave you guys hanging for so long. And then give what is basically a filler chapter but hey, setting up character relationships for the win! This chapter really favours Tony and Jack in terms of pagetime, but to make up for it I'll let them be set kind of aside for a while in the next chapters.**

**But as for why I've been absent so long, well, I had practical training and I had to write a really long report on it for school and during April I decided to quite randomly do the Camp NaNoWriMo challenge. To make matters worse, my sinusitis came back with a vengeance and is only ****_now _****clearing up. But now I managed to get working on this as well again, even though I am kind of caught up in other writing projects that I'm doing mostly for my own amusement. Buuut anyway, hope you guys aren't too disappointed with me. And yes, I've decided that things will start really happening in the next chapter!**

**Luggage and "Freezewind" comments by Tony were a reference to the wizard Rincewind and his walking Luggage from Terry Pratchett's ****_Discworld_****-novels. Sigh. Rest in peace, Sir Pratchett. The world is a less creative place without you.**

**Also, Castle Zemo and Captain America being in there is a reference to the ****_Captain America: Super Soldier_**** -video game, which is apparently considered non-canon to the films, but I figured it worked here.**


	8. Divide and Conquer

**So sorry for the looooooooong wait. I'm trying to make up for it with a longer chapter. I'll be giving my excuses in the Author's Note after the chapter, but before that, enjoy the actual thing you're here for.**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME (MILD) SPOILERS FOR ****_The Age of Ultron_**** BECAUSE IT REFERENCES SOME PLOT DEVELOPMENTS FROM THAT FILM!**

* * *

**8\. Divide and Conquer**

It was getting dark, and the blades of grass whispered when they clashed in the nightly wind. The comfortable darkness that was like a blanket was broken only by a couple of lit up squares that made up the downstairs windows of one farmhouse reasonably far away from everything. The upstairs windows were dark, though, because two thirds of the occupants in the house were already asleep, with invisible, golden dreamsand keeping their dreams pleasant. Downstairs, one Laura Barton was reading a book, her parental instincts keeping her ears open for possible noises that didn't belong there even though the night was peaceful.

There were a couple of things that Laura Barton had in common with centuries old protectors of childhood, even though she herself didn't know about it, or even about the protectors themselves. First of all, she was a guardian, just like most parents and a lot of other people were, in their own ways. Laura Barton knew without the slightest doubt that she would do anything to protect children, and her own children especially. The other thing that she and the Guardians had in common was that very few people in the world actually knew about her existence. Her husband had made sure of that when he had signed up to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

It had been for their protection, Laura knew, and she had accepted it. She could have protested and outright forbidden Clint to go, but then she wouldn't have been a very supportive person. She was doing what she wanted, taking care of their clandestine farm and family, and Clint had to have the right to do what he wanted. And he was doing so much good. If helping him with that meant hiding herself and their children from most of the world, then so be it. They were happy here, in the farmhouse Clint didn't ever seem to want to stop renovating whenever he was around, with the few but good friends the children had, and with the occasional visit from Natasha, whom the children adored. It was a good life, really.

A chill went through her spine, and she put her book down. The outside was still calm, but the darkness seemed a lot less protective all of a sudden. Laura stood up, wrapping the woollen shawl on her shoulders tighter around her and pulled the curtains closed. It was too dark to keep them opened anyway. She turned when she heard the patter of bare feet on wooden floors. Wide, warm eyes and long brown hair peeked from the stairwell.

"Lila?" Laura said, "What is it? Can't sleep?"

Lila shook her head.

"Bad dreams," she said quietly, "An' Cooper keeps whimpering in his sleep too."

Laura frowned. Usually, the kids slept so soundly, unless they knew Clint would have an especially dangerous mission ahead. And so far things had been relatively fine. Sure, the news about Tony Stark had been worrying, but Clint had assured them everything was under control. Laura went to her daughter and brushed some stray hair from her forehead.

"How about I come sit by the bed until you fall asleep?" she asked.

Lila nodded vigorously.

"Yeah. That'd work. I think the monster would go away too, then."

"What monster?"

Lila looked at her very seriously.

"The one under the bed. I think it might be the Boogeyman."

That was odd. Lila had never been worried about monsters under the bed. Or Cooper for that matter. It was possible that Cooper had scared her sister into thinking that, but he usually didn't sink to those sort of pranks. Laura squeezed Lila's shoulder, hoping to comfort her that way.

"Come on. Let's go back upstairs."

* * *

The last man to enter the Baron's temporary headquarters was probably not unusual in a world inhabited by godlike aliens, super spies and green, radioactive rage monsters, but he was certainly not ordinary either. He too was green, and radioactive, but the difference between him and the Hulk was that he was green all the time. It was a small price to pay for still keeping control of his mind, unlike what the Hulk did according to his research.

His name was Chen Lu, although nowadays those few who knew him usually referred to him as the Radioactive Man. Chen Lu had been China's answer to the growing fear of superhumans wreaking havoc in the United States of America. The news of a mysterious God of Thunder had been what had pushed everyone over the edge and made – at least according to Chen Lu's belief – almost every country make plans for some kind of invasion. What had happened in Europe and New York had just confirmed it all.

Even before things had reached such a critical point, Chen Lu had been doing his very dedicated research. As a nuclear physicist, he had become increasingly interested in the effects of radiation on the human body and how with the right methods the mostly harmful effects could be harnessed to make something great. Something stronger. Superhuman, even. With Thor's attack, his research had finally been financed enough for him to come to a breakthrough. That breakthrough was himself. If only others could see it that way. His powers were difficult to control, even with precautions and practise, and once the immediate threat of an invasion had been dealt with by the group called the Avengers, Chen Lu's success had been quietly dismissed in favour of something "more efficient", as the financers put it. Only now, too long a time later, _someone _had finally seen his value.

Working with a permanently hooded, German Baron was not what Chen Lu had had in mind when he had thought of dosing himself with hazardous amounts of radiation for the benefit of his people, but it would do for now. At least it had meant he could stop hiding. And the man was focused on eliminating a threat he could agree should be eliminated before it did more damage than it already had. So all in all, it wasn't a terrible way to come out of his forced retirement.

The Baron's company he had mixed feelings about, however. The woman and her bodyguard were from the mythical place of the gods, just like the previous threat had been. But they had assured they were here with different intentions. One of the others, the assassin named Taskmaster had already been captured, and the newest addition… well, he made Chen Lu just plain uncomfortable. At first he hadn't even realised the dark man _was _there, until the fair had woman pointed him out.

The newcomer was the Boogeyman. Chen Lu remembered being scared of the dark as a child. There had been eyes in the dark, and he'd been afraid they belonged to someone who would take him away from his family because he wasn't good enough for them. This man reminded him of those dreadful nights. The eyes had been yellow, just like the man's. Had he still been a child, the man would have made him turn around and head right back home. But those days were long past. Now Chen Lu knew he was stronger. Stronger than anyone, most likely, according to his research and extensive testing. The dark man didn't seem very strong, at the moment. Sickly and weak, actually. Chen Lu shifted on the seat he'd been given and adjusted his radiation harness that kept most of his radiation at bay. Then he focused again on the conversation between the Baron and the others. He had been just on time for the meeting where they started what the Baron called "the final steps". Chen Lu sincerely hoped the final steps would mean some action.

"We have crippled Stark's main base of operations, and the man himself has gone to hiding," the woman, named Amora, said, "It is a good time to strike."

"Just because we destroyed one tower doesn't mean Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. can't use the thousands of other headquarters and resources they have," the Baron argued, "You were supposed to kill Stark, not frighten him to slip underground."

"But if we strike now, there will hardly be time for him to come back. Even now he has probably informed the more capable members of their little group about this."

"You are trusting us to be able to breach their defences now when we have only dented them," the Baron scoffed.

"And you are putting too much faith in your new toy," said Amora, her arms crossed, "Can you even be sure it works the way you want?"

The Baron slapped his hands against the table.

"It will work! I just need to make the final adjustments and it is ready for the field. In the meantime, we need to neutralise the strongest threats just in case."

"The green man, and Thor," said Amora's bodyguard, "Is our new green man here for the Hulk?"

He looked at Chen Lu, clearly unimpressed. Chen Lu bristled silently. He'd show him.

"He is here for him, yes," the Baron said, "But also for other field work. Do you think his radiation works on these Guardians as well?"

Ah, yes. The Guardians. The mythical group Amora and the Boogeyman had talked about. Chen Lu hadn't had time for childish fantasies when he had been little, but now it seemed these western legends were something of a reality, if only in forms the stories didn't quite get right. Chen Lu flexed his fingers, felt his skin tingling with power. It mattered little what got in his way.

"I can face them," he said with confidence.

There was an amused glint in the Boogeyman's eyes. Chen Lu didn't particularly like it.

"We'll see," the Boogeyman drawled, "And once you get this weapon of yours ready, no one should be a threat to you, am I right?"

The Baron nodded stiffly.

"The only difficulty then will be making sure I will not be disarmed. That is why the opposition needs to be thinned."

"Ah, yes… of course," the Boogeyman said, "But before that, how were you going to 'handle' Thor and the Hulk? I assume Amora here will be taking care of the Thunder God?"

Amora nodded fiercely.

"Yes. That has been my only condition for working with this group. Thor is mine."

"And the Hulk shall be captured and brought to our base," the Baron said, "With the help of the Radioactive Man, I've prepared a special cell for him. Until my gun is ready, we don't know if there is anything that can actually kill him. Thanks to the intelligence provided by the Taskmaster, we know how to find him."

"And the Taskmaster?" the Boogeyman asked, "Are we just going to leave him to his cell?"

"Why do you care?" Amora asked coldly.

"I don't. I was just wondering if anyone else does."

The Baron slapped the table again.

"Focus! The Enchantress shall take on Thor, and the Radioactive Man and some of my volunteer militia will get the Hulk. Meanwhile, we need something to run interference. _Herr_ Black, since you seem so amused by all this, why don't you make a suggestion?"

The Baron watched the Boogeyman, and even though Chen Lu couldn't see the Baron's face, he could guess he was being challenging. The Boogeyman crossed his arms.

"Actually, I do have an idea. We need to get their core group even more divided. Scatter their focus. There are a couple of simple ways to do that."

He grinned. His teeth were like those of a shark.

"I think there is one way to get some of those so called super agents _and _the Guardians out of our way for a while. In fact, I'm already making preparations."

The Baron nodded slowly.

"Divide and conquer, you mean?"

The Boogeyman's grin became even wider.

"Exactly."

* * *

Clint Barton's cell phone rang. It wasn't any of his usual cell phones, but one that had the most secure line S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources could buy. Clint smiled discreetly, and worried at the same time. He slipped to a more private place to answer. There weren't many people around in the HQ Clint was currently in, but he needed a room he could make sure was completely de-bugged and had no way of anyone listening in. Only once he got there he pressed the green button.

"Hey, honey," he said.

_"__Hi. Is everything alright there?"_

Clint frowned at the worry in his wife's voice. It just confirmed his suspicions that everything was not okay. Laura knew how risky it was to call when he was away working, so she didn't call unless it was important.

"You heard about New York?" he said, "We're fine. We're trying to make sure everyone stays that way too. Don't worry."

_"__You know I have to, at least a little."_

A soft smile made its way to Clint's face.

"Yeah. I know. How are the kids?"

There was a hesitant silence at the other end. A bad feeling started to crawl along Clint's spine.

_"__That's why I called. Both have been complaining about nightmares. Some of them were about you being hurt. They miss you, I think. And last night, Lila claimed to have seen a monster in her room. It's… odd. Usually she's too brave for that kind of thing."_

The bad feeling was getting more and more prominent. Nightmares were understandable. Not welcome, but understandable. Monsters in children's rooms, on the other hand…

"So she thinks she saw the Boogeyman?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

_"__Well, yes. I don't know what got her so upset."_

Only years of training kept Clint's breathing from quickening.

"Are they alright?"

_"__Oh, they're fine. Just… I don't know. Scared. You told me to call if anything comes up. I just figured you should know. It's just strange. I can't explain it. I… I probably shouldn't have called because of it."_

"No, don't worry. I needed to know."

_"__You'll come back here as soon as the worst is over, right?"_

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

_"__Don't get too worried about this. I know you have more important things there to worry about."_

Clint sighed.

"You know that _nothing _is more important to me than you guys."

_"__I know. But you know what I mean."_

"Yeah. I'll see you soon."

_"__Good. Love you."_

"You too."

Clint listened to the beeping of the ended call for a while, his mind racing. It could just be nothing. Lila was a creative girl. But she had never been worried about monsters under the bed. The Guardians had told them that the Boogeyman would need time to get his strength back, so he shouldn't be on the move so soon after getting beaten. Memories of the power the Boogeyman had wielded during their last fight flashed into Clint's head. Even if he was still weak, he would still be dangerous. And it was possible he was now sneaking close to _his _family.

Clint had to make sure they were safe. He thought about his options. They had just had a brief tactical meeting, resulting in Natasha going to pick up Banner to prepare for the worst. Stark had called from Santa's workshop – or at least he claimed to call from there and Clint had no reason to doubt it. There was no way Stark would say something like that with that level of seriousness if it wasn't true. Clint had been told to brief Thor and Steve once they arrived, but that task was easily delegated. Really, before they were all gathered there and had a better idea of who they were dealing with, no one would miss him.

Clint picked up another phone and called Stark. If the Boogeyman was really on the move, Stark was right now his best link to the experts in dealing with it.

* * *

It had been a while since the Northern Lights had been needed for a full-on Guardian meeting. Nicholas St. North tapped his fingers against his _Nice _tattoo while he waited, seriously hoping that the others would get to the North Pole fast. It wasn't _exactly _an emergency, but he had a feeling it was getting dangerously close to one.

Next to him, Jack Frost paced restlessly, occasionally swinging his staff to freeze a passing elf, something which North automatically chastised the boy about, even though his heart wasn't in it. The tiny troublemakers needed a break every once in a while. Or more like North needed a break from them every once in a while. It was really far too close to Christmas for this kind of thing. North sighed and stroked his white beard. His moment of restless pondering ended only when a disgruntled Easter Bunny and a slightly hyperactive Tooth Fairy stumbled inside almost at the same time, followed only minutes later by the always serene Sandy.

"Finally!" North said, "Is time for meeting! Now, hurry. Toy production is in critical state so we have to make it quick."

"Ya always say that," Bunny grumbled, "What about my eggs? What's this all about anyway?"

"I tell you when we start. Jack! We are all here. Come on."

Jack stopped what he was doing, which was throwing snowballs at the rather accurate ice sculpture of a beat-up Pitch that he had conjured up at some point, and followed eagerly. North could also hear the tap of Mr. Stark's shoes and knew the man would also be there. It was an odd feeling. The Guardians hadn't had an actual mortal in their meeting in centuries at least. Well, desperate times call for odd measures.

"North? What's going on?" Tooth asked as soon as they were in the Globe Room, where the globe displaying all believing children stood deceptively reassuring with its twinkling lights, "My fairies have reported some shady activity in some parts of America. Is Pitch on the move _again_? Or-?"

"Not to our knowledge," North said and raised his hand to calm the others down, "We are here because the Asgardians we were worried about have made their move. One of them attacked Mr. Stark while Jack was there. He managed to drive him off, but…"

"Wait, what?" Bunny asked, "How long ago was that? Why didn't ya call us, Frostbite?"

Jack crossed his arms.

"I had things under control. I can fight just fine without kangaroo backup."

Bunny raised his paw as if to take the bait, but then suddenly whirled around and pointed at Stark.

"An' him! What's he doing here? This place's supposed to be off limits to them!"

It was Stark's turn to raise his hands defensively.

"Whoa there, killer rabbit! I have permission to be here."

"He grabbed me when I was going through a portal," Jack said.

"But he is welcome to stay for now," North said, trying to restore some semblance of order. Why did their meetings always go like this? Shouldn't centuries of teamwork have made their team seamless? No, of course not. North knew that. They were too different and had too strong personalities. And centuries of friendship just couldn't possibly go on for so long without any collisions.

Out of the corner of his eyes, North saw how Sandy waved his hands, shushing the others. It didn't do much, because now everyone was wildly questioning Mr. Stark and Jack, and… North looked at Sandy with a tired expression. Sandy looked back meaningfully in a way that clearly said _"I know, right?_" North took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. The booming clap was enough to shut everyone up.

"The point of this meeting," he said with his best leader voice, "is to make sure we are doing something before this… this whole thing gets more out of hand. I…"

A cell phone rang. Everyone's heads turned towards Stark, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry," he took his phone out of his pocked, "Talk."

"Now," North went on, "As I was saying-"

"Hey, Guardians?" Stark said, "Barton wants to know if that Boogeyman is on the move."

North sighed. Tooth zipped over to Stark.

"My fairies reported some activity that _could _be him," she said quickly, "But he should be very weak now, so most he can do is… well, eat children's dreams and replace them with nightmares so that the fear will make him stronger. It's… not good, but we're not even sure if it even was him."

"Did you catch that?" Stark said to the phone, "Uh-huh. Don't we have other concerns besides tall, dark and creepy? You know, like the people who blew up one of my best towers? I really liked that tower."

Stark was frowning when the call ended. North was tapping his foot.

"Weird. Barton usually doesn't call me. Oh, well. So, you were saying?"

North opened his mouth, but couldn't even get a word in before he was interrupted again. This time by Tooth:

"Wait! The location of the activity… Mr. Barton's concern…" she looked at Sandy, who started forming images so quickly only someone with Tooth-levels of hyperactivity could read it. She nodded wildly.

"Sandy? Tooth?" Bunny said, "What are ya talkin' about?"

Tooth nodded one last time before turning to Bunny.

"Bunny, you remember…" she whispered into Bunny's ear, and Bunny's eyes widened as well.

"Ya think it's a trap?" he asked, "Then Pitch could really be there."

Tooth crossed her arms.

"Considering someone's been targeting the Avengers, it could be… and yes, then he would be…"

"Um, guys?" Jack said, "We're a little lost here. And I think North's getting really mad because everyone keeps interrupting him."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Tooth blushed a bit, "Just… theories. Go on, North."

"Thank you, Tooth," North said pointedly, "Now, are we going to make plans or what?"

* * *

Clint cursed under his breath. It was all too unsure, and Fury would have his head – or at least give him a stern reprimand – if he just left on his own to chase ghosts. Fury would be especially angry if Clint diverted someone else with him for it. But the bad feeling just didn't stop. It kept him on his toes even as he waited for Thor and Steve to arrive. It made him construct unnerving scenarios in his head about what could happen to his kids if it really was the Boogeyman at the farm.

Then there was the fact that if it really was the Boogeyman, the whole thing was probably a trap. Right now, when they seemed to be under small but damaging attacks from all kinds of fronts, there was no way monsters would just _happen _to pass by _his _secret home. Clint knew the Boogeyman had to know it was his. The Boogeyman knew everyone's fears. Surely it would take no effort to find the people Clint was afraid of losing.

Laura's unidentifiable number was calling again. Clint answered it without missing a beat.

"Hey?" he said, expecting to hear Laura's voice. Instead, the shaky whisper of his daughter made his heart stop:

_"__D-dad? I… I took mom's phone. Sorry. But… there are monsters here."_

Clint was already running.

"What kind of monsters?"

_"__Bad. Dark," _Lila's voice wavered with tears, _"Mom doesn't believe me, even though she says she does. But Cooper sees them too. I'm… I'm scared."_

Clint rounded a corner into his room, glad no one was around to hear him talk. He grabbed some extra arrows and slipped them into his quiver with one hand.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I'll be there. Just be brave."

He didn't want to hang up on Lila, but he had to so he could actually help them. His amazing little girl sobbed a couple of times, but then said goodbyes and promised to try not to be afraid. Then the call ended. Clint left a brief, vague message to Fury and then exited their headquarters. So the Boogeyman really thought he could get to his kids. The son of a bitch was going to find out how wrong he was. As long as Clint didn't rush in headfirst. He knew he would need help. There were only a couple of people he could ask when it came to this.

* * *

Bruce Banner drummed his fingers against a table, glancing at his phone periodically. He hadn't heard from Tony after the explosions that had shaken New York's centre and left Stark's tower devastated. He was worried, but what could he really do about it now except wait for a call? He had no idea where Tony had disappeared to – and he had asked around – and just going out blindly would get him nowhere. Still, he felt incredibly stupid for the fact that the only thing he had managed to think to do was to take a table at the shawarma place he and Tony had started frequenting in, sit down, and wait.

A part of him knew that if it really was serious, _someone _would find him eventually. And if it wasn't, Tony would figure out a way out of it. He always seemed to, the persistent, clever bastard. Bruce's eyes strayed to the window and he saw a glimpse of red hair outside. His eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely out of discomfort. Out of all the agents and superheroes, the Black Widow was one of the most welcome sight in his eyes. Natasha stepped into the shawarma joint, looking deceptively normal in a denim jacket and sensible boots. She found Bruce immediately and sat down at his table.

Bruce's mouth twitched in an attempt of a smile. He remembered a time long ago when Natasha Romanoff had found him far away from anywhere. He had hidden well, but there she had stood, and told him he was needed. He hadn't wanted to come with her, then. He hadn't wanted to return from hiding when Fury had called about the Guardians. And he had a feeling he didn't want to have much to do with what was going to happen now either.

"Are you here to pick me up, again?" he asked, "Is that a part of your job description?"

Natasha's smile was much more genuine than his.

"Unfortunately, yes. You're needed at work."

Bruce sighed.

"Is Tony okay?"

Natasha nodded.

"As far as we know. He called from an… interesting place," she looked around in the half empty joint, "Maybe we should discuss this in a better place."

They stepped outside and before Bruce could protest, Natasha had seated herself behind the wheel of a car that was just as deceptively ordinary as her clothing. Bruce had no choice but to follow her.

"So far things have been just messy, but nothing catastrophic," Natasha said when she joined the traffic and was almost immediately caught in the inevitable traffic jam, "But now… with Stark attacked and Asgardians showing up, it's getting intense. To top it all off, the Guardians contacted us just a moment ago."

"What?" Bruce breathed, "Then it really is serious, isn't it?"

"Yes. Or it's going to be. Fury wants all the Avengers at the ready. We can't do much until we have full confirmation on what we're exactly dealing with, but we're getting close to that as well."

Bruce's hands clenched into fists. He was quiet for a long while. A while that was enough for so many unpleasant images to flash through his head.

"So right now, you could still handle it?" he finally said, "Without me?"

Natasha only glanced at him.

"We need you to be ready."

"Well, I'm not."

There was a flash of regret and worry in Natasha's eyes, but she masked it quickly with what Bruce could guess was years of training.

"I know you don't like it, but there's a good chance we will need you."

Bruce looked out of the window. Natasha had somehow manoeuvred the car through the traffic jam in an impressive time and was now inching her way out of the city centre. He wrung his hands, trying to find the right words, the right _thoughts _about the situation. He did want to help his friends, and save people if needed. But he also didn't want to go back out of control.

"You have to understand, Natasha," he said at length, trying to keep his voice even, "These last couple of times when the… the Other Guy has been needed… they've been so intense that I'd almost forgotten how… _difficult _it is to stop when the fight really starts. These last couple of times, something has managed to calm me down, but I just… I don't want to take that risk."

Natasha nodded slowly.

"But you _have_ been able to stop. It should be fine."

"It took an alien invasion or that whole Boogeyman mess to tire the Other Guy out even a little bit," Bruce said, "And that one time the Sandman was there to calm me down. But you remember what happened at the Helicarrier, with Loki, with me getting… a-angry. I almost killed you all. Especially you. I don't want that happening again."

The faint memory of the Hulk striking Natasha made Bruce cringe. Out of all the people in the world, Natasha was one of the last he ever wanted to hurt. She had found him. She knew what he was, but she could still talk to him without fear. Bruce knew that even the people at S.H.I.E.L.D., even some of the Avengers were wary of him. As they should be. But Natasha seemed to just naturally push it away whenever there was no real danger of him becoming the Hulk. It was odd, but the good kind of odd.

"We can figure something out," Natasha said quietly. She was looking at Bruce for a long moment, before she had to return her eyes on the road, "Something that will work without much of a chance for failure."

"Like what?" Bruce asked bitterly, "Sedatives? They only really work on_ me_, not _him_."

"I was thinking more like a trigger phrase. Or meditation… or calming music. Something that _helps _instead of forces you to calm down. Hell, maybe the Sandman could give us some help with that."

"I… I don't know," Bruce sighed, "If something like that would work, it would be… amazing. But before that… I don't know. Just… get me back to my apartment, please."

"Sorry, no. You have to come with me. Fury's orders."

Bruce's hands were fists again.

"I'm not going to run away. Just… I need to get my things."

_And to clear my head._

His head was buzzing with worry. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up the calm.

Natasha's phone rang. She redirected it into her headphone.

"What? Wait… Clint? Why are you-? Oh, _shit_! …Got it. I'll be there."

She swerved the car sharply. Bruce steadied himself with a hand on the window.

"What is it?"

"Good news, you got your wish," Natasha's voice was a bit strained, "Barton needs assistance right now. I need to make some calls."

Bruce could only nod. Something really bad was definitely going on. He needed to get his head back in the game.

While Bruce was reaching some semblance of a meditative state with his worries, somewhere farther away, at the Bartons' farm, Laura Barton dropped a kettle she was using to make dinner with when she heard her children screaming.

* * *

Tony Stark watched as the bunch of myths gathered in the same room with him debated and occasionally argued about meddling with mortal business, and he had to admit he was getting very impatient. For a group of immortals with supposedly legendary powers they sure were ineffectual. Even amidst all the crap that was going on in the world, they seemed more concerned with Christmas gifts and chocolate than with… well, _anything _that actually mattered.

Tony kept his arms folded, trying his best to keep his cool. But the last few days hadn't been the best for him, and he had no idea what was going on with the rest of the Avengers. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world to just pretend he cared about how focusing on finding a couple of stray Asgardians would affect toy production in Santa's workshop. To top it all off, now that the initial shock of seeing Santa's workshop and finding out that Santa was a tech junkie had worn off, Tony started to realise that his overt enchantment over the place had to have something to do with the weird powers the Guardians had. Being around Santa probably made people easily think everything was awesome, just like being around Jack made people cheerful. It was… creepy. Tony didn't like being manipulated.

"So we split up, obviously," the Easter Bunny was saying, "Frostbite or Sandy can go ask Mother Nature, 'cause we know she's still watching the Asgardians."

"It should be Sandy," Jack said, "Emmy doesn't like me much."

"Yeah, there's a surprise," Bunnymund said sarcastically, "And if North wants to stay here, he can keep watch on the globe. Frostbite can go talk to Thor, then?"

"Sure. That's fine."

"So all you're going to do is… talk?" Tony asked, and a colourful set of heads turned to look at him.

"Uh, yeah?" said Jack, "Or do you want us to blindly attack something? Like you seem to like doing?"

"We are gathered here to plan before we leap," Santa pointed out.

"Yeah, plan for what? I thought you'd actually be working with S.H.I.E.L.D. for this. That's why you wanted me to call Fury, right?"

"We are working for the same thing," said the Tooth Fairy, "The safety of the people."

Tony tried to stay calm, but now that he'd finally let some frustration go, it all seemed to just pour out at once.

"What? By wondering if it's so bad if little Timmy doesn't get a fire truck for Christmas? I mean, you have all this power, and you use it for crap like that and shut yourselves into this admittedly awesome winter retreat! Especially now when we need your help! I can't say I'm that crazy getting in contact with Fury all the time either, but right now, we're both deep in this."

He took a deep breath, and forced himself to stop before things got too out of hand. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Well, _someone's _being grumpy. Want me to fix that?"

"Don't try to force your happy pills on me!" Tony said icily, "Now either get to actually working or at least help me get back so _I_ can do something to fix this!"

"By driving your car at the problem?" said Jack.

Tony sighed.

"I have suits hidden away."

It wasn't nice to be the only one who was properly concerned about the situation. It made Tony feel like a stupid, paranoid jackass, but he had to ignore that now because he knew he was right to be paranoid. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw golden movement. The Sandman was trying to get their attention again. The Tooth Fairy was the second to notice it.

"What is it, Sandy?"

The Sandman pointed at Tony, and Tony could see a check mark over the little guy's head.

"What? You're actually on my side?"

The Sandman nodded. Then his unholy mix of charades and Pictionary got too quick for Tony to understand. The Guardians seemed to be following it alright, however. Santa Claus sighed into his beard.

"Yes… Sandy is right. We have to form watch groups until we know what is going on."

Well, that at least sounded like _something_. Tony was about to give some kind of noise of approval, but it was drowned out by his ringtone. Again. Tony lifted the phone to his ear.

"What?"

_"__You're still with the Guardians, right?"_

It was Barton again. Tony frowned.

"Why is it-"

_"__I know you're there. Put the Easter Bunny on the phone."_

Tony almost chuckled. Almost.

"You're not talking at a public place, right?"

He looked at Bunnymund.

"It's for you, killer rabbit."

Bunnymund pointed at himself with confusion, but hopped over to Tony and took the phone. The sight that followed was comical. The phone had certainly not been designed to be user friendly for giant anthropomorphic rabbits. Bunnymund asked a few questions, but mostly just nodded. After a while Bunnymund tossed the phone to Tony and looked grimly at the others.

"Hawkeye just said he's got confirmation on Pitch. He's on the move."

"What?" the Tooth Fairy gasped, "So we were right!"

"Probably," the Easter Bunny admitted.

"Wait, right about what?" Tony wanted to know, "What's going on?"

Bunnymund wasn't listening.

"I'll go. Hawkeye said he needed help."

The Sandman pointed to himself. Santa Claus nodded.

"Good. You two go. Pitch shouldn't be too strong for you yet. But if you need help, some of Tooth's fairies can get us there in no time."

The Tooth Fairy was nodding vigorously.

"But it has to be some kind of a trick," she said, "Remember that. It's too coincidental otherwise."

"Wait, what about us?" asked Jack, "I can help you guys with Pitch."

"No," said Santa, "Stark is right. We need to at least share what we know with the Shield people. The rest of us go there, and keep Stark safe on the way."

"I'm not _that _helpless, you know," Tony protested, hating how the situation was again so out of his control and how he had no idea what was going on.

"What, you don't want to ride in Santa's sleigh?" Jack said, "It's _awesome_! Not awesome like flying with the wind, but different kind of awesome that's pretty much just as awesome."

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but then sighed in defeat.

"Okay. Fine. Let's go."

The sleigh ride did sound pretty sweet, actually.

* * *

Clint Barton leaned to a wall at a spot where there were no passers-by or windows someone could look through and see him. He realised he was tapping his fingers in sloppy Morse code and stopped. It was a good thing that Natasha had been close enough when Clint called her. Otherwise waiting for the Easter Bunny would have been even more of a torture than it already was. Natasha parked her car on a free spot and then rushed out, only stopping to lock the doors behind her.

"Do you have a ride?" she asked immediately after making sure they weren't being watched or eavesdropped on, "What's the situation now?"

"No word from them," Clint said vaguely, knowing Nat understood, "It's worrying, but we'll get there quickly once our ride shows up."

"So we do have one. Good."

"Yeah, there's just the thing that… well, you'll see."

Clint knew he probably should have asked Fury to arrange him to the farm instead, but he had assured the director that he would be fine. He knew the Guardians would be the faster way there. And right now, every second counted. Calling childhood icons they had a tenuous alliance with wasn't his first choice, but it was the smartest one, so he had to go with that. Nat was frowning at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I called some back-up. Non-official back-up."

Natasha raised a brow.

"You mean-?"

"G'day, mate," said an Australian accent that was impossible to miss.

Natasha spun around to look at the seven-foot-tall grey rabbit that had appeared to their small concrete clearing as if out of nowhere. Next to him hovered a plump, golden man, who was waving happily. Nat stepped closer to the newcomers, the slight tension under the soles of her feet dissipating again.

"Okay," she said lightly, "so you do mean exactly what I thought you meant."

Bunnymund looked at Clint questioningly, and the whole situation became surreal very quickly. Clint had to remind himself that after being brainwashed by a Norse god and then fighting aliens, asking help from a children's holiday mascot against the forces of darkness without properly telling his boss was… well, not the _only _weird thing that had ever happened to him.

"Well, I'm glad you actually showed up," he said.

Bunnymund tapped his foot at the ground and a hole opened up there instantly. Concrete dust fell into it, disappearing into darkness that probably came all the way from the centre of the Earth.

"'Course we did," Bunnymund said, "Pitch might be on the move. Ankle biters in danger. It's exactly our job. Hop in."

Bunnymund was clearly not keen on wasting any time. Clint was happy about that. He tossed a glance at Nat, who seemed just as prepared to jump into the unknown as he was. He knew how much Nat loved the kids. She was like their aunt. An awesome enough aunt to rush to help with guns blazing in times like this. Times that Clint had hoped would never come.

He jumped.

The trip was short, yet, well, trippy. First they were falling, then they were probably falling upwards, and that went against everything physics-related and the more scientifically oriented members of their team would flip a table if they knew about it. And then they would probably put the table back up so they could study the science of upwards falling tunnels. Clint mostly just cared that it was over fast, and that the tunnel had deposited them right near his front door. Clint rolled on the ground in the familiar hay and regained his footing fast, already scanning for potential threats before he was on his feet.

He didn't have to scan for long. The cosy, large and old farmhouse he most of the time considered his unfinished project seemed physically unharmed, but the surroundings, the walls, and even the sky around it was dotted with black. Clint cursed quietly.

"Aw, bloody hell," said Bunnymund, "He shouldn't be this strong yet."

The Sandman mimed something that Clint could interpret being along the lines: _He isn't as strong as he looks. Yet. _Clint shot one of the shadows from the sky before it could get any closer.

"Then we'll make sure he _doesn't _get any stronger."

His mission was clear. He would have to get to the house and guarantee that nothing touched his family. He started running. He sensed the two legends and his best friend following him. The shadowy little bastards wouldn't stand a chance.

* * *

Bruce looked around in the small rented apartment that was as close to home as he could get at the moment. There wasn't much in the way of anything that made a home cosy, but it did the job. Bruce gave a long, calming sigh. Natasha had dropped him off at his place and then disappeared somewhere in a hurry. She had promised to get back fast or at least send someone. Bruce knew something urgent was up, but Natasha hadn't told him what it was. Maybe it had something to do with whatever was happening with S.H.I.E.L.D., or then it didn't and it was Natasha and Barton's problem. Those two were best friends, and best friends had their secrets.

When Bruce had said he needed to get his things, he hadn't lied. There wasn't much of them, sure, and wherever he was going would probably provide him with what he was missing, but he still went to his bedroom and quickly packed a set of spare clothing and some of his research with him. Both would be of use to him. Especially the clothes. Becoming the Hulk always put a new dent in his clothing budget.

Once his things were packed, Bruce leaned against a wall and tried to finally get his thoughts sorted out. Last time it had been easier to just jump back into action. Fury's phone call about the Guardians back then had been too intriguing and too urgent. But this time it was just singular attacks that weren't anything S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't handle on its own. There really had to be something bigger brewing. Otherwise they wouldn't risk calling him.

"Fine," he whispered to himself, "I got this."

Someone rang his doorbell. It couldn't be Natasha. She had left twenty minutes ago, and Bruce doubted that whatever she needed to take care of would take that little time. It could still be someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. Bruce's nerves were wound up and every one of his senses were on high alert as he grabbed the door handle, and he didn't even know why. He cracked the door open slightly.

A nauseating feeling assaulted him almost immediately, and he saw a green face in front of him. For one confusing and terrifying moment he thought he was looking in a mirror and had transformed without even noticing, but then he realised the difference in both stature and facial features of the green man at his door. The nauseating feeling seemed to spread from the man itself, and Bruce recognised what it was. Radiation.

"-the hell?" he managed to say before something sharp nicked him in the arm. Then another sting alerted him to the men standing behind the green, radioactive man. There was no time for transformation, not even time to get over his surprise to actually get angry. Bruce yanked a needle free from his arm and knew he'd been drugged with something that was apparently very fast acting. More needles struck him, and his legs gave out from under him. The green man grabbed his arm and hoisted him off his feet, and Bruce's sedated mind struggled with staying awake and remembering a nightmare that had been a bit similar to what was happening now. In the dream, instead of Asian features the green man had been Bruce himself and it had ended with him being eaten in a horrific display of symbolism his subconscious had decided to cook up.

Bruce could only hope this wasn't quite like that dream. His arm twitched uselessly as a last effort to escape, but the radioactive man's hold of him held fast.

He passed out.

* * *

**Author's Note: Whoohoo I saw actual Northern lights a couple of nights ago! I haven't seen them in ages.**

**And now to something actually relevant: Yes! I finally did it! I managed to get my thoughts sorted out about this chapter! I'm again sorry that this took so freakin' long to get out. But, uh… sinusitis! No, way. I've been mostly healthy lately (and I'm really glad about that), so I can't play that card anymore. What kept this chapter on hold for so long was really the fact that I wanted to watch ****_Age of Ultron _****before getting too far into this fic because I wanted to tie this into the film somehow or at least not contradict it too much. And I'd heard about Clint's secret family and figured hey! There's some place for Pitch to cause some mayhem! I only got to watching it a while ago and after that I started writing as much as I could without letting the quality to suffer.**

**This chapter is kind of a "get people in places for actually exiting things to happen later" -chapter, but those need to be done in order to keep this at least somewhat logical. It involves a lot of EXCITING TALKING IN THE PHONE ACTION, at least! If you like people talking to each other at long distances, then this is the chapter for you!**

**I wish I could say my updates will be fast after such a long hiatus, but it's likely that I'm not getting a new chapter out before December. My November's writing energy will be reserved for NaNoWriMo again****. And I have school work. And I have to be writing a script for our university theatre's play. So, busy busy. But the rest of this story has been shaping up pretty well and I mostly much know what I'll do with it now so at least there's that. Also, I have quite a sizeable chunk of the next chapter written already so it hopefully won't at least take as much time as this one to come out (unless I decide to move that scene for later…). Let's all hope so. I sure do.**

**I'm so glad you guys have been sticking with me. You rock! Thanks for the feedback and more is always welcome.**

**REVIEW RESPONSE TIME:**

**Mala: I'm toying with the idea of making a connection with Jack's book backstory and the film backstory (also, glxblt I SO WANT THAT BOOK! The illustrations are amazing and gah! I'm fangirling Joyce's art style so much!). I have an idea that I'm not sure I can implement in this but I might. I'm just not sure yet if I can fit it in without it just being really pointless. It definitely isn't in conflict with the Jokul Frosti -thing, though, for reasons I'm probably also going to explain more at some point in-story as well. But the short part of that is: Jack in my fics is only connected to Asgard for the simple reason that he has occasionally visited it, so his origins as a normal human kid are still very much there for this fic.**

**Crossover Junkie: Thanks! I love writing Jack and Tony's interactions a lot so we'll get to see more of it for sure. It's always easy and just so natural to write. Maybe because snark and playful insults are how I communicate with my own friends in real life a lot.**


	9. Breakout

**9\. Breakout**

Laura Barton had known that having anyone from her family in the super spy business meant that certain risks were involved, and that there was always a chance that they would be discovered and threatened, or hurt. She had been prepared for it, even though she didn't like to think about it on a daily basis. Laura was not an action hero like her husband or Natasha, but she was ready to do whatever it took to protect her children when the time came. Now, however, she had no idea _what_ she was supposed to protect her children from.

She burst into Lila's room and immediately saw both Cooper and Lila curled up in a corner, surrounded by a haphazardly constructed pillow fort that would have been adorable if not for the sheer terror on the kids' faces. They had their arms around each other, and Cooper was shielding Lila from… something. The rest of the room was silent and empty. All Laura could hear was the sobbing of her children.

"Cooper? Lila?" she said, trying her best to stay calm despite her racing heart, "What happened?"

Lila looked up at her, eyes wide and teary.

"Mom," she whispered urgently, "Get down! There's monsters in here!"

It could just be a game, but games didn't make the kids so genuinely scared. Laura dropped to her knees next to the kids, still trying to figure out what had them rattled.

"Alright. I'm here. Where are the monsters?"

"Everywhere," Cooper said quietly, "Right outside the window. Even… even in here. They tried to get Lila."

"They're makin' everything all scary…" Lila mumbled into her brother's arm.

Laura peeked cautiously out of the bedroom's window. The fields outside were windy, but otherwise undisturbed. The sky was ominous, but that could be chalked up to the thunder that was probably on its way. Laura slowly turned to look back at the kids.

"There's nothing there," she said, "What did you see?"

Lila let out a squeak and buried her head into Cooper's shoulder. Cooper was staring at the corner of their room, unblinking and terrified. Laura turned to look. There was a flicker of movement, caused by the shadow of a curtain, and then… nothing again. Lila started to cry.

Laura wrapped her arms around her children, trying to calm them down while her own mind was racing. What was happening? Whatever was attacking them was invisible and intangible, or simply didn't exist. Laura knew that weird things had happened on Earth lately, especially around the Avengers. Had that weirdness finally caught up with them? Laura hoped with all her heart that was not it. Her kids clung to her desperately, and Laura fumbled for her phone only to find the battery dead even though she had charged it just a couple of hours ago.

"Don't worry, kids," Laura said quietly, "We'll be fine."

A shiver went through her spine, and without a good explanation, she found herself doubting her words.

In Laura Barton's arms, Cooper and Lila were staring terrified at the storm of dark shadow creatures that their mother couldn't see. At least their mother's arms were comforting, helping them believe that it would all be okay soon.

* * *

Tony found himself being again reluctantly impressed by Santa's sleigh. He had seen glimpses of it in their last fight against the Boogeyman, but he hadn't actually properly ridden in it. He preferred his suit, thank you very much. Still, there was something sleek and well-designed about the sleigh, and that was always something that made Tony's mind tingle with approval. Or then it was just the wonder vibes the Santa Claus was sending with his mere presence. Tony hoped not. He liked to be able to trust his own emotions, thank you very much.

"It's not a bad ride," he admitted once they were in the air and Santa was busy driving the sleigh through one of his portals, "But you do realise you could easily make the reindeer obsolete with a couple of adjustments? It would make for a smoother ride too."

Just as he had said that, Santa made a sharp turn after the portal had closed behind them, and Tony's stomach flipped when they started speeding downwards towards what looked like the S.H.I.E.L.D. base they were supposed to meet at.

"I know," Santa said, "But is traditional. And I like my reindeer."

Tradition over efficiency. That might as well have been the motto of the Guardians. Tony was far too practical for sentimentality like that.

"He also likes driving this like a rollercoaster," said Jack, who had balanced himself precariously on one of the sides of the sleigh, "Bunny hates it, but I think it's great!"

Tony could empathise with both sides as the sleigh touched down with the smoothness of a Roman horse carriage on cobblestones. He jumped out as soon as he was sure his breakfast wouldn't decide to evacuate its remains as soon as he stood up. Santa, Jack, and the Tooth Fairy followed him to the base, where Fury was waiting for them.

"Where are the rest?" he asked as a greeting.

The Tooth Fairy was the one to speak up with her hyperactive speed:

"They went to help Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff!"

Fury raised a brow.

"With picking up Banner?"

The Guardians glanced at each other.

"Actually, we were talking about-"

"No, forget it," said Fury suddenly, "They will keep us updated, and you will keep them updated. It's good to have you all here. Stark, I need you to give me everything you know about the attack on your tower. Frost, you too. And you had some intel on his weaponry, North? Also, the Taskmaster is still here in our custody, if the Tooth Fairy wishes-"

"I don't," the fairy said a bit testily, and Tony wondered what he had missed, "Not like that."

"He's still not talking," said Fury, but then sighed, "Well, I'm sure our enemies are about to show themselves properly now. Once Rogers and Thor get here, we can hopefully start planning."

_Hopefully_. Tony was tired of running and waiting. He thought about the suits he had stashed away in various locations. Some of them hadn't been properly tested yet, but there were also some very finished ones in storage. He had promised to retire, but now he was being practically forced back into action. He couldn't just twiddle his thumbs when there were assassins and gods after him. He was sure Pepper would understand if he put his retirement on hold for a while. There were still things he needed to do.

And if he was being completely honest, he had missed it all.

* * *

Clint's mind was working chillingly calmly through his anger. Shadows were falling all around him, riddled with arrows that he shot with deadly precision. Beside him, Natasha was kicking and punching the nearest ones that went down screaming as well. Bunnymund and the Sandman had scattered to take care of the things farther away. Clint shot down the last ones near them and then turned to look for the Sandman. The golden shape was above the battlefield, taking care of the largest wave of shadows with impressive efficiency.

"Sandman!" Clint shouted over the screams of the monsters, "Help me get to the house!"

The Sandman nodded, and in the next moment Clint found himself standing on a dolphin made of sand. The Sandman settled near the head of the sand creature and steered it towards the house. It hit the dark wave around the house with ramming speed, sending the creatures scattering around their fields. A couple of shots from Natasha and a boomerang dispersed the rest of the larger clouds, and Clint jumped from the dolphin's back onto the roof of his house.

A hit to his back sent him sprawling on the roof, and what felt like three slashes burned even through his combat armour. Clint hissed, rolling to get away from the attacker. His arrow was ready for launch when he turned, but by that time a boomerang had blasted the shadow's head into dust. Bunnymund hopped onto the roof, catching the boomerang and smiling smugly.

"Careful there, mate. These aren't too strong, but they're crafty. Just like the ratbag who's orderin' them around."

Clint stood up, an arrow still nocked.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

There were still monsters banging against the windows and circling the house, and Clint kicked and shot them on his way towards his kids' windows. He stopped only briefly when he realised something peculiar about the attackers. He looked at the Sandman, who had wrapped about five creatures with a golden whip and was now quite calmly slicing them to particles with another whip. It was slightly disturbing to see the mascot of pleasant dreams so methodically ruthless. Clint shook it off, however. There were more pressing matters to worry about.

"Those things aren't getting in," he said in an uncertain voice as if he didn't believe them himself, "They're just… stopping at the window."

The Sandman nodded, sending shreds of darkness tumbling away into the wind. A sandy heart appeared over the little man's head, as did a picture of a nurturing-looking woman.

"They can't get in because Laura is in there?" Clint said.

The Sandman nodded.

_If you get in there as well, everything will be fine, _was written in hasty cursive into the air.

It made sense. Boogeymen were usually chased away best with a protective parent. Clint nocked an arrow, shot it into the roof and grabbed the wire that was attached to it.

"Then I'd better get there soon."

He jumped off the roof, into the sea of shadows. He hit them with his feet, and with the ferocity of an angry father. The shadows around his kids' windows were fleeing before he even had time to draw his bow again. He almost caught a glimpse of the room before a small wave of black sand swept him away. Clint lost his grip on the wire and fell, hitting the ground on his yard. Air was driven from his lungs, and he coughed even as he got back up. There was no time for breathing now. He knew who was behind that wave. He searched for the shadow man with his eyes, but saw nothing. Nat danced across his field of vision farther away, quick and deadly just like she should be.

"Well, I'm pleasantly surprised."

Clint spun around, pointing an arrow to his own shadow at the wall of his house. The shadow was smiling, sharp teeth and yellow eyes glinting against the wooden boards. The mouth spoke with a mocking tone, and Clint resisted the urge to just let his arrow fly. He doubted the Boogeyman was tangible enough for it to hit.

"Such a warm welcome, all for me," the shadow said, "You shouldn't have. You even got the Sandman, and the bunny here."

The almost-face disappeared, and the voice moved to Clint's right.

"Then again, this _is _their fight, isn't it? Protecting children from me… it's almost refreshing, these small scale attacks. I eat some dreams – and your kids have some _delicious _ones – and they show up, and I escape. A nice pattern we set up centuries ago. Or was it millennia? It's been so long I forget sometimes."

"Get out of here," Clint said in a dangerously low voice, "If you've hurt my kids in any way, I promise that I'll really start stress-testing your 'immortality'."

"How quaint," said the Boogeyman, his head and shoulders emerging from the shadow of the house's porch, "Your threats are just a pathetic attempt to hide your fear. All this time, you thought that no enemy knew your secret. But I knew the moment I first met you. You know that whatever you do, your family won't be safe from-"

His speech was interrupted by a bang, followed by the Boogeyman's head snapping back so harshly Clint could wishfully imagine the man's neck breaking. Natasha stood behind Clint, her Glock still aimed at the head that recoiled back into the shadows.

"Well, that's just rude."

The Boogeyman appeared from behind the tree, a closing bullet hole in his forehead. Clint let his arrow fly, and it struck the man in the heart. The Boogeyman lurched and steadied himself against the tree. His grin still didn't disappear. It did waver a bit, however, when the Sandman lowered himself from the sky and raised his hand in a clear threat of violence.

"Fine," the Boogeyman said with barely concealed nervousness, "I can tell when I'm not wanted here. Have fun dealing with the fallout of your little side trip."

Clint shot another arrow, but the man was gone before it hit. The last remaining shadows dispersed and the sky seemed to clear of the foreboding feeling. It was… almost too easy, really.

"What was that all about?" asked the Easter Bunny, "Bloody coward. Can't even face us after harassing the ankle biters…"

The Sandman shrugged his shoulders, a frown on his face suggesting he was worried about something.

"This was probably a trap," said Nat, "Or a diversion. I better call Fury."

Above them, the window to the kids' room rattled. Two heads peeked out of it and looked down at Clint.

"Dad?"

Clint turned to look at Cooper and Lila's pale faces, and he lifted his hand and gave them a reassuring smile.

"Hey," he said, "Don't worry. Aunt Nat and I took care of the bad guys."

Laura appeared behind them, her arms winding around the kids protectively. She was smiling as well, but there was clear worry in her eyes. Clint knew he'd have some explaining to do.

"Alright, kids," she said, "Which one of you took my phone and alerted dad?"

She didn't sound angry about it at all.

* * *

Thor Odinson sat next to Steve Rogers in a car that was a bit too slow and too loud for his liking, but he had to admit that their options on transport were limited. Thor could have flown with his trusted hammer Mjölnir, but Steve had been worried that if anyone happened to spot him on the way, Fury would tan their hides. Not that Thor's hide was easy to tan, but even the Thunder God had to agree that with Nicholas Fury one didn't want to take any chances.

"Is this going to take long?" he asked after a very tedious stretch of road, "We need to hurry. I have a feeling we are already too late."

"I'm going a bit too much over the speed limit to be comfortable with it already," said Steve, "It's not far. And as soon as we get there, you can do as much hammer jumping as you like. I promise I won't nag."

"I know, it is just… LOOK OUT!"

Steve swerved sharply to the right, only barely avoiding the green clad figure that had appeared as if out of nowhere in front of them. The car slid out of the road and into the sands on each side of it, and Thor could hear Steve gasping and muttering something that was not quite a curse.

"Who in the world was that?" Steve said, quickly opening his door and stepping outside. Thor followed him, all of his instincts prepared for a fight.

"Whoever she is, she is still there," he said, "Waiting for us."

The woman really had just appeared, and the road was empty without many hiding places she could have sprung from. She was clad in a green dress, and her hair was long and golden. Her features were strong, and there was something about her that instantly made Thor aware of where she was from. She looked too familiar, and no one of Earth looked too familiar to Thor Odinson.

"Well met, Thor Odinson," the woman said, "I wish to speak with you."

Thor nodded, keeping his stance relaxed and Mjölnir loosely in his hand. He was ready to spring to action at any time, however. After everything that had happened lately, Mother Nature's warnings of his kin had come back to haunt him. He might loathe how that woman had insulted his home, but he had to admit that she also had a point, in a way. After his brother and now an attack on Stark by what according to Fury's latest call was probably an Asgardian, his home wasn't giving very many reasons for the Earthlings to appreciate Asgard the way it deserved. Well, Thor was about to change that. Starting with this woman.

"I wish to speak to you as well," he said, and glanced at Steve, "Go, Rogers. I shall see you later."

"What?" said Steve, "But we were supposed to be… you know, in a meeting soon."

"I know," Thor said, "But she is one of the Asgardians."

"Indeed I am, Thor," the woman said with a seductive smile on her lips, "My name is Amora. I do not know if you remember me."

Thor didn't. The woman apparently remembered him, however. Perhaps they had met in a time Thor wasn't so proud of, when he had still been too arrogant to even properly pay attention to the passing faces of his own people.

"I will remember now," he said.

"I am glad," Amora smiled again, "I believe some privacy is needed for this… conversation. Is your companion insisting on staying?"

"He isn't," said Thor, "Rogers. Go."

Steve looked like he wanted to protest, but in the end he sighed.

"Fine. Tell her to not just appear on roads in the future. It could cause a serious accident."

"I will remember that," said Amora. She watched with calculating eyes as Steve went back into his car and sped away. Then she turned to look at Thor with eyes that held so many promises.

Looking into them, Thor found it rather hard to think that she could ever do anything harmful to anyone.

* * *

Laura was looking at Clint with a mix of disbelief and worry. Her arms were crossed and she stole occasional glances to the bedrooms, where the kids had fallen asleep exhausted from panicking.

"Nothing?" she repeated, "The kids didn't seem to think it was nothing."

"I can imagine," Clint said quietly, hating himself for lying to his family, "But Nat and I checked everything. Maybe it's just the times we live in. After the attacks, and what happened in New York. The kids know, they listen to things."

"I know that. And… maybe you're right," Laura sighed, still not completely convinced, "They just… they really seemed to believe there was something there."

"But they were fine because you were with them," Clint put his hands on Laura's shoulders, "This is probably my fault. I should be here more often so they wouldn't have to worry about me. I'll check the area again, but I'm sure we're still safe. Fury will make sure of that."

He wasn't sure, and he hated himself even more for saying he was. The Guardians had assured him that the Boogeyman usually worked alone, but this time it seemed like he didn't. The timing was too convenient. If the Boogeyman was here now, it was likely that someone else knew about the farm too. It was a terrifying thought.

"I'll stay here for a while to make sure things are clear, okay?" he said finally after a torturous silence. Laura hugged him, but shook her head.

"If you really have to go… then go," she said.

Clint looked at Nat, who had stood in the sidelines. She nodded with wordless understanding and called Fury. After a while she sighed.

"He's mad because we still haven't brought Bruce there. And he says he'll do whatever he can to make sure Laura and the kids are safe."

"And we will, too," said Bunnymund, "If the ankle biters might be in danger, we'll keep watch as well."

"You don't have to," Clint said quietly, and Laura glanced at him oddly.

"We do," said Bunnymund, "It's our job. We can get around quickly in case someone decides to come back."

The Sandman made a thumbs-up and then formed a few reassuring sand images over his head. Clint couldn't find the words to properly express his gratitude. Not that he could have said them without looking like a crazy person in front of his wife. Laura didn't need to know about the Guardians. It would be one more secret that could get her in trouble. Adult believers were apparently rare and would catch the attention of spirits easily. Clint really didn't need any more disturbances for his family.

"Well," said Nat, checking that her weapons were in place and giving a quick one-armed hug to Laura, "I wish I could stay, but Fury insisted I go pick up Bruce. I'll see you guys later, okay? Clint? Will you come with me?"

"I… yeah. Fury would probably fire me if I didn't."

"Okay," said Laura, "Stay safe. And come back soon. The kids miss you."

Nat smiled. Clint gave Laura a light kiss.

"We will."

They went outside, and once out of sight of the window, they were gone with a tap of a rabbit's foot, and a spark of sand. Clint took some reassurance from the fact that the Sandman and the Easter Bunny wouldn't be far away from protecting his family, at least.

Still, he hoped the Boogeyman had got the message and would stay far away from them. If this screwed up the safety they had so painstakingly crafted, Clint didn't know what he'd do.

* * *

"Well?" said a voice from under the purple hood that was probably permanently stuck to the speaker's head. The Baron had heard Pitch materialising into his room. The man had a sharp hearing, he'd have to give him that.

"The Avengers I diverted from their mission had backup from the Guardians," Pitch said, "I had to retreat, but actually killing them wasn't the plan, anyway. Did you get the green man?"

The Baron nodded.

"Yes. He has been captured. Your diversion tactics worked wonderfully. What _did _you do to get their attention so easily?"

"Oh, a few false alarms in places I knew they'd be watching, and a small attack I knew they'd respond to. You know how they get when someone even sneezes at their bases."

"Oh, I know," said the Baron, "I was surprised that the Taskmaster even got that much intelligence before he was intercepted. You have proved your worth, _herr _Black. I hope you continue to do so."

"I'll do my best."

Pitch looked around and saw that only the Baron and the Asgardian man – Skurge – remained in their little scheming den. Pitch supposed The Enchantress was somewhere trying to get a hold of that ridiculous so-called God of Thunder, and the Radioactive Man was busy securing the Hulk. Pitch had to admit that taking the Hulk out of the picture was a very smart move. The same couldn't be said of some of the other moves this new group had made. Pitch was very much in favour of fear tactics and sowing disorder into the enemy ranks, but so far the group's guerrilla attacks hadn't been as effective as the Baron had clearly hoped. They had crippled Stark's tower, which was a plus – even though Pitch was sure the billionaire had tons of gadgets and weapons elsewhere as well – but otherwise, they hadn't really done much to breach S.H.I.E.L.D.'s defences. Not that Pitch cared that much. He was just along for the ride, strengthening himself with the fear these fools caused with their antics. If he managed to knock the Guardians and the Avengers around in the process, well, that was just a bonus.

"Is there something else you needed of me?" Pitch asked with feigned humility that anyone could see through.

"I need you to keep up with the interference," said the Baron, "The Executioner shall soon go assist the Radioactive Man with watching the Hulk, just in case. I will go to my laboratory and I will not be disturbed."

Pitch bowed mockingly when he was sure the Baron couldn't see him and melted through the shadows of a wall and to the main corridor of their small HQ. Of course the Baron would want him both out of the way but also used in a place he couldn't do much damage to the Baron's precious project. Not that he was interested in doing that.

Pitch crossed his arms and drank in the darkness of the empty corridor. Getting Hawkeye to call the Widow off the Hulk had been so easy. Pitch was actually proud of his work. He had known Hawkeye had no one else he could viably turn to in case his secret family was threatened. All that knowledge was so deeply tied to the man's fear of losing his family that Pitch could read it like an open book. They had known for sure that something was up, that it was a trap or at least a diversion. They still had had no choice but to go. Pitch knew the way a father's love could blind and bind a person. He had seen it so many times. Perhaps that was why he hadn't given away the existence of the Barton family to anyone else and had made sure his little army couldn't be followed. Yes, it was his trump card in case things went sour. That was why he had stayed quiet; there could be no other reason.

"He seems to trust you," said a threatening baritone voice, "I cannot imagine why."

Pitch turned to look at Skurge, who almost blocked the entire corridor with his impressive frame.

"I am very reliable," Pitch said with a straight face, "As long as you don't give me a reason not to be."

"I do not believe you."

Pitch shrugged.

"I don't particularly care. Besides, distrust is just so common around here. Your woman doesn't trust me either. That Chen Lu -fellow barely trusts anyone. You have serious doubts about the Baron…"

"Yet you are the greatest mystery," said Skurge, "Why did you come here? You weren't called. I doubt it was out of selfless interest to help."

"It's called opportunism. I know, big words for you. It means I saw my chance, and took it. There's nothing more to it," Pitch sighed theatrically, "This group can't work if there isn't even a little bit of trust between us."

Skurge frowned.

"I trust Amora, and that is what matters. She doesn't feel comfortable around you, so I am warning you: if anything you do hurts her, you will answer to me."

"Ah, yes. Amora," Pitch gave the man his best, sharp-toothed grin, "The biggest liar out of all."

Skurge took a step forward. Pitch knew he was treading on very dangerous grounds. The Executioner was like a puppy to the Enchantress, following her around everywhere, expecting only affection in return of his undying loyalty. It was pathetic, really, and the woman was so obviously using the man for her own ends. But it didn't mean that making him mad was still a good plan.

"You will not insult her," Skurge growled.

Pitch's grin didn't fade.

"I'm sorry. It just slipped. I should know better than to feed your doubts," he said, half-melting into the nearest shadow just in case. Skurge didn't seem to be quite in control of his emotions right now. The man was clenching and unclenching his fists in a way that suggested he would very much like to flatten Pitch's skull against the wall, "Or especially your greatest fear…"

Skurge looked at him murderously.

"I fear nothing."

"I've heard that before. Too many times," Pitch chuckled, "You fear that she never really loved you. That the tiny voice in your head that claims she has literally bewitched you is right after all."

"BE SILENT!"

Pitch slipped into the shadow right before Skurge's fist cracked the wall the shadow was cast on. Pitch almost felt the impact even though he wasn't tangible any longer. It was clearly the time for a tactical retreat. Besides, he already had an idea for more "interference" the Baron wanted him to run. Pitch smiled to himself, listening to the growing doubt in Skurge's little mind.

Oh, how he had missed working with people he could manipulate.

* * *

The Easter Bunny had dropped them off at the point they had met before they had set off to Clint's farm. Then the two children's mascots were gone and Natasha and Clint were left alone. Natasha settled back into the driver's seat of her car and Clint sat next to her.

"I hope Bruce didn't mind the delay," said Clint, "Thanks for helping me, Nat."

"Any time," Natasha said, starting the engine, "I'm sure Bruce was just glad for having some time to think. He seemed a bit worried this would get out of hand."

Clint leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

"I can relate."

Bruce's apartment seemed dark, and when Natasha parked the car and neared the door, Natasha felt a wave of apprehension shooting through her spine. The door was slightly ajar. Bruce would never be that sloppy. The man had lived years in hiding, paranoid and avoiding anything that could get him into trouble. Natasha put her hand on her gun, and quickly and quietly went to the door. Clint was next to her, his bow drawn. With a quick nod, Natasha nudged the door open, and spun around with her gun drawn.

Some clothes were strewn on the floor, along with a bunch of papers. Bruce was gone. A quick check confirmed that the apartment was empty.

"Shit," Natasha whispered, and put her finger on her earpiece, "Fury? Did you send someone else to pick up Banner?"

_"__No. Why? What's going on there?"_

Natasha and Clint shared a look. This wasn't good.

* * *

He had been left out of the action again, and it was getting annoying. Tony Stark didn't like being sidelined, even if he had been given a computer and a reasonable access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources. Fury had taken the Guardians with him mostly to keep an eye on them but also to get information. A while later Jack Frost had entered Tony's room, having apparently given all the info he could and was probably and understandably not too keen on staying in Fury's presence after what had happened when they'd met last time. Tony took a more relaxed position on the seat he'd been given and checked a few status updates on his phone. Then boredom set in again and he turned his attention to the annoying but admittedly scientifically fascinating being who had perched on the back of a chair in the corner of the room.

"So, Frost," he said conversationally, "How _are _the Guardians made, really? Are you the only one who had to die, or is it a usual thing?"

"Magic," said Jack as if that explained everything, "The Man in the Moon chooses us. I think that over the centuries, we've just become more and more like the things we represent so we qualify as spirits."

"And the dying thing?"

Jack looked uncomfortably at his feet.

"I don't know. It's different for everyone."

"So this almighty moon deity just occasionally decides to save dying kids and gives them superpowers?"

"I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it too much," Jack muttered, "And no, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one he brought back… you know, after the fact."

"Why you?"

Jack shot Tony a chilling glare. Tony raised his hands defensively.

"It's a scientifically valid question. What makes you special?"

Jack opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it after a second. Tony looked with disbelief as the usually smart-mouthed, carefree hell-raiser seemed to deflate. The aura of joy he usually filled the room with felt considerably less _there_. A small voice at the back of Tony's mind said that maybe, just _maybe _it wasn't the nicest thing in the world to question why a more or less nice person deserved to not die. Right in said person's face, no less.

The door to the room suddenly slammed open and Fury walked in briskly. Steve Rogers was with him, and they both looked agitated. Well, by their standards. By normal standards it was barely noticeable.

"Stark," Fury said, commanded really, "what have you got?"

"I… uh…" Tony looked at the computer screen in front of him, "Not much, yet. But I _can_ help seal up the security leaks you had in your system. It was this… Tony Masters, right? He's the guy who shot me?"

"Yes. Seal them if you can do it quickly. Do you have any operational suits?"

"A small task force of A.I.-controlled suits, and some for me," Tony said casually, "I'm aiming for an army of them again, but I think what I have now will do."

"Good. Get them ready. Thor has been delayed. And Banner has been taken."

Well, that had escalated quickly. Tony stretched his arms and let his fingers fly on the holographic keyboard. Goodbye, sidelines.

In the corner of the room, tendrils of frost crept up the wall, seemingly unnoticed by their creator, who sat with his arms around his knees, and stared into space.

* * *

A camera had gone dark. The Taskmaster noticed it sparking faintly in the corner, clearly out of commission. He looked at it with interest he made sure didn't show on his face. The guard in the corner near the door to his cell was still watching him, and the Taskmaster didn't want to clue the man in on the malfunction that had brought his potential escape that much closer. If it hadn't been for the cameras, the Taskmaster would have left ages ago. He could easily lure the guard in, incapacitate him, and then sneak through the corridors he had memorised when he had been taken from the interrogation room to his cell. Then he could maybe even blend in by taking someone else's clothes and walking out pretending to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents. Or pretend to _still _be one of them. He didn't remember much of his old life, but he did know he had been an agent once. When he got outside, he was free to seek out his current employer and discuss the rest of his payment.

The Taskmaster hadn't been that surprised when no one had bothered to show up to get him out. When the Baron had hired him, he had mentioned that there would be a team on his side soon enough, but that the Taskmaster didn't need to worry about that yet. He had been supposed to just kill or at least incapacitate some key members of the Avengers. That… could have gone better, as was evident. The Taskmaster didn't like failure, but if he got out, he could amend his mistakes and get paid in full.

There were three cameras and one infrared sensor in the cell and the adjacent room. One of them was still sparking, and the Taskmaster let his eyes drift as if by accident to the other two cameras. Perhaps the malfunction would spread. Even if it didn't, the Taskmaster was fairly sure he now had a blind spot he could use anyway. He would just wait a little longer and prepare for the escape.

The second camera went out in a swish of what looked like darkness. The Taskmaster blinked. Strange. Perhaps it wasn't a malfunction at all. Maybe it was sabotage. As the infrared sensor stopped working, and the final camera went dark, the Taskmaster concluded that maybe someone had decided to assist him in his escape after all. Or then it was a trap. Whatever the case, he was free to get out, and if it was a trap, he'd just be prepared for anything. He slowly stepped to the door, and the guard raised a brow but didn't react yet. The lock was electronic as well, but the Taskmaster was sure he could provoke this guard to open it. He had spent his time in the cell quietly profiling his guards. This one was a bit of a hothead. It would be easy.

After a few well-chosen words, a quick twist of an arm and a few dislocated vertebrae, the Taskmaster was sneaking through the corridors of the S.H.I.E.L.D.-base, silently thanking whoever had decided to be his mysterious helper.

Even though Pitch Black couldn't read people's thoughts, he could guess what the Taskmaster was thinking.

"You're welcome," he said quietly and disappeared back into darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note: SURPRISE! I managed to get this out right before NaNo started!**

**Man, Tony, why are you being such a jerk? Oh, well. He's fun like that, and his jerkassery is surprisingly good at pushing some of my kind of pointless subplots forward. Still, I don't know, the moment he started questioning Jack's right to live (even though he didn't mean it maliciously, I'm sure) I kind of wanted to punch him in the face, and ****_I'm_**** the one who let him say it! I'm trying really hard not to go overboard with his douchiness, but I've gathered that Tony does get really carried away with his desire to understand and figure things out.**

**This story lacks focus. Agh! But hey, we finally got action! Still no escaping those phone calls, though. Speaking of phone calls, there was a bit in the last chapter with Bunny speaking in the phone, and I was debating with myself whether to explain it or not, seeing how I had established that the Guardians are invisible to cameras and can't be picked up by microphones (something I occasionally forget and have to fix later but this time I did think about it). We can now all agree that North had some magic technology thingy that enabled a believer on the other end to hear Bunny's voice or something. Right? Good.**

**Pitch proves to be surprisingly competent in this one. The thing is, he really is smart (especially in the books), and that's one of the things I like about him as a villain. Also, I missed writing him. He's really fun to write.**

**Reviews would be super nice. Thank you all who have made it this far!**

**I'll probably be back in December. Until then, peace, love, and all kinds of nice things for you!**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Mala: Yeah, Nightlight/Jack hasn't had the easiest life, in book or film. And if we go by the book, the poor kid was also sealed away for millennia with Pitch, which must have sucked. I have a plan on how I'm going to merge book!backstory and film!backstory for Jack and Nightlight if I'm going to use it and I now think that I might actually do that just because I want to. Even if it didn't add much to the overall plot. I'm glad you like the story.**

**Crossover Junkie: I love Pitch's backstory from the books as well. The moment I read it (which was almost right after I'd seen the film) I was like "Why the heck didn't they use this in the film? It would have added SO MUCH to his character!"**


	10. Fallout

**Content warning: This chapter contains a seduction scene. It has no adult content, but it****_ is _****written by me, and I'm terrible at writing anything romantic. So it's probably going to be horribly executed. You have been warned.**

* * *

**10\. Fallout**

The woman's – Amora's – hair seemed to shimmer with unearthly light. Then again, everything about the woman was unearthly. She was Asgardian, just like Thor was. Her face was so beautiful it reminded Thor of the splendour of his home. The way she moved was strong and graceful, just like she should be. Thor stepped forward, clearing his throat and trying to focus. There had to be a mistake: Mother Nature wouldn't worry about a perfect being like this. Still, it was something he needed to settle. Otherwise Mother Nature would meddle, and everything would fall apart.

Amora opened her mouth again, her perfect lips forming a seductive smile. Thor felt something warm in his stomach.

"So, you wished to talk to me?" she said, "I am glad. You do not even know how long I have wanted to meet you."

Thor cleared his throat again.

"Yes. There has been some mistake, I believe. You see, some people do not want you here."

"Oh?" Amora said, "Are you one of them?"

Thor's mind ground to a halt at the hopeful look she gave him.

"No," he said quickly, "But you have to understand that I need to know why you and your companion are here."

"My companion?"

"Yes. He attacked a friend of mine. And you have angered someone. Gaea. Or Mother Nature, as she calls herself."

Amora walked closer to Thor, her hips swaying mesmerizingly like an elegant snake. Her hand hovered near Thor's shoulder before gently brushing it. Somehow Thor didn't mind it.

"I apologise on behalf of Skurge. I do not know what he has been doing. And as of the lady of nature, I had no idea she was cross with me."

"The Earth has been shaken by too many hostilities from outside this world," Thor managed to say even though Amora was gazing right into his eyes and it was so very hard to think of anything else. Something knocked at the back of his mind. Like he was supposed to remember something… someone… "Some of those hostilities happened because of… us. Asgard."

"Ah, yes. I know of your brother."

Of course she knew. There was hardly anyone in Asgard who wouldn't know Loki. Amora brushed Thor's cheek with her long-fingered hand.

"I am not here to start a war," she said, "All I've wanted is to find you, Thor Odinson."

Her face was closer to Thor's. Thor didn't know if it was because Amora had moved, or because he had.

"I am sorry," Thor said, "But I hardly know who you are."

"You can find out," Amora whispered, her lips inches from Thor's, "When I saw you for the first time, I knew we were meant to be together. The two of us, ruling Asgard… and then you disappeared."

Her lips moved to Thor's ear.

"I was devastated," she said.

The feeling of needing to remember was more pressing now. Thor tried to focus on it instead of the goddess in front of him. A face flashed into his mind. Beautiful, intelligent eyes and rich brown hair. And the mind behind it was…

Amora cupped his face with her hands.

"I came here to tell you that you made a mistake, coming here," she said, "You are needed back home. With me."

Yes. Of course he was. Amora was… perfect. She was… he…

He really didn't know anything about her.

That thought snapped Thor out enough so that he could again focus on the other face in his mind. Of the woman he hadn't known for that long, but whom he actually knew. The woman who was more and more familiar every day. The woman he wanted to spend his life with.

"Jane…" Thor said quietly.

Amora's elegant eyebrows rose.

"Jane?" she asked, "My name is Amora."

With a great effort, Thor pushed Amora away from him, still unable to bring himself to be too harsh with her. She hadn't done anything wrong, really. The poor woman was just smitten with him.

"I am really sorry," Thor said, "But there is someone else. And I am needed _here_."

Amora stood there, looking dumbfounded.

"But… you can't!" she managed to say, "I…"

"Look, Amora. I really am sorry. I wish you will find happiness."

Amora's eyes darkened. Thor could feel Asgardian magic crackling silently around them.

"I do not think you know how this goes," Amora said darkly, "_No one _can resist me."

Thor was immediately more alert than before, trying to shake the last remnants of her rather impressive spell from his mind.

"I just did," he said bluntly, "And I suggest you leave and take your companion with you before anything bad happens."

Amora raised her hand. Thor readied Mjölnir. He should have known. What did the Earthlings say again? "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"? There was a crack of thunder, one Thor hadn't summoned, and dark storm clouds rolled in with speed that couldn't be natural. At first Thor wasn't sure if it was Amora's doing or not, but then a dark-haired woman in green robes descended between him and Amora, and Thor realised the storm clouds had been natural after all.

Mother Nature looked at Amora, her arms crossed and another storm in her eyes.

"_Really_?" she asked, "You have breached the border of the worlds for _this_?"

* * *

"Okay, here's the plan," said Fury, the lines on his forehead deeper than before, "Romanoff and Barton will scout out the base we found before."

"The one where I was attacked by that Taskmaster?" said Clint, "We'll go immediately."

"Yes you will. And if you find Banner there and can get him out, do it. If you don't, try to at least find info on where he could be. And if there is any excessive resistance, call for backup. We can't afford to take risks with this. We have already almost lost too many."

"Got it," said Natasha.

"And meanwhile, Stark will focus on getting his suits ready. Rogers, get ready to move out at any moment. If we locate Banner, I want you there getting him out."

"Right."

"And Guardians… do you have any idea what is going on here?"

North took the initiative to talk. He was the leader, after all, not counting the Man in the Moon. He stepped forward after a quick, reassuring and sleepy look from Sandy.

"Whatever it is, is getting bad. I think first would be best to find your people. If Mr. Banner is asleep, Sandy can find him."

"Really?" asked Steve Rogers, "He can find _anyone_?"

Sandy nodded with a serene smile on his face. North clapped the little man on the back.

"It will just take a bit time. But not too much."

Fury sighed and his face twitched, which was in North's eyes pretty close to a smile when it came to Nick Fury.

"Well, that's probably the best news I've heard all day."

"Do we still scout out the base we already know of?" asked Natasha.

"Yes. Just in case. But like I said, no unnecessary risks. Go."

"I can take'em," said Bunny, "Just tell me where. My tunnels are faster than anything ya've got."

Fury just nodded, and North could tell the man was worried because he didn't really seem to mind their help. Bunny disappeared into a tunnel after a few moments of Natasha and Clint preparing for their recon mission, and there were again fewer of them. Fury massaged his temples.

"Don't worry, Mr. Fury," Toothiana piped up, "This can still be fixed! Pretty much anything can!"

Then, a device in Fury's ear lit up and Fury put his finger on his earpiece.

"What?" he asked, "Wait, _what_? How did he get out? Find him! He can't be far!"

He lowered his hand and looked at everyone in the room gravely.

"The Taskmaster is gone from his cell."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Toothiana smiled.

"Well, I'm sure everything will _still _be fine!"

Fury didn't look so convinced. Behind North, Sandy had started snoring softly.

* * *

Chen Lu watched the unconscious, captive man and wondered if he should be more impressed. The ragged, sickly looking man didn't really inspire many such feelings, though, even when Chen Lu knew that the man was capable of turning into a green rage monster whose strength and durability rivalled that of so-called gods. Chen Lu wondered if such radiation-based powers could be controlled even now. If _he _could control them if he wanted. The force field that now surrounded the man would certainly keep him at bay, but one always needed a back-up plan. And Chen Lu had learned not to put too much trust on anyone's expertise here even though they were certainly doing better than before.

A small beep in the earpiece he had been given indicated that he was getting a call.

"Yes?" he said.

_"__Has he been secured?" _asked the Baron's voice. Chen Lu looked up at the motionless man.

"Yes. He has. The force field is set up, and I will monitor it. In an emergency, I should be able to at least slow his powers down with my on."

_"__Excellent. And the Executioner is there as well?"_

Chen Lu glanced at the large Asgardian man, who was standing near one of the doors to the room with a vigilant expression on his face. Chen Lu didn't like the man that much. Or at the very least he didn't have any respect for him. He was obviously just a tool for the Enchantress – and Chen Lu didn't like her either. Too manipulative. Too much absorbed by her own schemes. Still, he would tolerate this. At least they had already given him plenty of challenges.

"He is here," he said to the Baron, "He arrived just after I did."

_"__Make sure no one gets Banner out of there. We are preparing for an attack, now that the most dangerous obstacles have been removed."_

"Is your secret weapon ready?"

_"__After a couple of finishing touches. Soon it – and you – can truly show the world what you can do."_

"I am looking forward to it."

The call ended, and Chen Lu looked at their captive again. The Avengers and the Guardians – or at least some of them – would surely not take this lightly. They would be here, just as the Baron was expecting them to be. Chen Lu was looking forward to that as well.

* * *

Amora stared Mother Nature down with blatant disrespect. Not that Mother Nature seemed any more polite. The two statuesque women stood on the road, with a tangible tension between them, and Thor felt the wind picking up and starting to blow vigorously. It was suspiciously in sync with Mother Nature's progressively angrier glare.

"I knew you would start trouble," Mother Nature said in a positively chilling tone, "But just for this? Just to… indulge in a schoolgirl crush you've had for… what, centuries?"

Amora flipped her perfect hair over her shoulders and put her hands on her hips.

"Truly?" she said, "I would not call this trouble. What is it to you, anyway?"

Mother Nature took a thundering step forward. Literally. Thor heard the rumble and even saw a small bolt of lightning striking in the distance. Dramatic thunder was usually his thing, but now Mother Nature seemed to need it more.

"I want you out of this planet!" Mother Nature snapped, "I am not going to keep sitting by and watching aliens use this world as their battlefield! You keep opening your portals here and bringing more and more trouble at your wake. And just to fulfil your whims? It will stop _now_!"

"Is that not a mite hypocritical?" Amora asked, "Are you not 'an alien' as well?"

Mother Nature's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I'd rather not fight you. I simply want you to stop this."

"Then we might very well come to exchanging blows, Miss... Nature," Amora said condescendingly, "I have no intention of leaving. Or abandoning my quest. Unlike what you think, this is _not _just for, how did you put it? 'Schoolgirl crush'? I know when I am being mocked. If you think you can intimidate me or make me leave with such weak insults, you are mistaken."

"Then I will _have _to make you leave!"

The thunderstorm was right over their heads at that moment. It had traversed about a dozen miles in seconds. Amora didn't seem impressed. Thor had to admit that he was, if just a bit. He had never before met anyone with the same level of control over weather than he or some other Asgardians had. Well, there was Jokul, of course, but he was more about snow and blizzards than thunder. That was not important right now, though. What was important that there was soon going to be a duel between two very angry, very dangerous women that could – if the look on Mother Nature's face was any indication – easily be blown out of proportions and endanger both Earth and Asgard. That couldn't happen.

Thor stepped forward, into the electric air between the two would-be combatants.

"Ladies," he said in his best diplomat voice, "This is not the time nor the place. We do not want war here."

Mother Nature directed her cold look at him now, a look that would have made any lesser man cringe.

"You were supposed to take them away!" she snapped.

"I am," said Thor, "And it can be done without violence. Surely you too want that?"

"Oh, I am certainly ready to leave," Amora said, "As long as Thor comes with me."

Thor opened his mouth, ready to protest, but then stopped himself. He could do that. Take Amora home and then return without her. Then there would just be her bodyguard to deal with. It would be a bit dishonourable, sure, but it was either that or risk Asgard and Earth losing their temper with each other with possibly very serious consequences. Besides, travelling with Amora would certainly be… no, Thor shook his head. Those thoughts were coming from the remains of the… whatever enchantment she had put on him. She was pretty to look at, but upon closer inspection she was more like poison in a beautiful glass.

"Very well," Thor said, hoping the lie wasn't audible in his voice, "I will come with you."

Amora smiled sweetly, and her hand found Thor's bicep.

"I am glad to hear it," she purred. Then her eyes hardened again, "Or I would, if you were telling me the truth."

Before Thor could protest or explain himself, Amora's lips were upon his and his world melted away. He wasn't sure if it was just the woman's spell or because she had teleported them both away. Maybe it was both. He had to fight it, even when his mind kept asking him why.

* * *

The Sandman slept. Or worked, however one wanted to look at it. Most went with sleeping, but those rarely properly understood. He was in his element, in a world made of golden sand and soothing feelings. The land of good dreams, with feather-light glow everywhere, with every sleeping person in there somewhere, whether they knew about it or not. Sandy smiled to himself. He started walking on sandy tracks that flowed through starry space that reminded him sometimes a little too much of home. If he hadn't fallen so in love with Earth, his heart might have ached more in the dream. But as it was, it was real enough for him. And it was definitely really home as well.

Sandy closed his eyes and formed an image of Bruce Banner in his mind. He liked the man, and felt sorry for him a bit too often. Banner was torn with the green man he could so easily become, with the fear of himself. Sandy remembered some nights when Banner had had nightmares so strong he had heard them easily from far away. It had left a clear imprint of the man's dreams into Sandy's memory, and he knew he would be able to locate him soon enough. That is, if the man was asleep. Sandy hoped so, and he also hoped the man's sleep didn't expose him to further danger. Most beings were so vulnerable when their minds were in the realm of dreams. It could have saddened Sandy, but Sandy was old enough to understand it and his own responsibility. He was a Guardian, the eldest of them. He helped children – and sometimes adults too – form their pleasant dreams. He protected them in their dreams. And right now, he would find a lost, sleeping mind in order to do both of those things.

He wove through the strands of dreams and slowly made his way towards a familiar dream-shape. That of a frightening yet also protective form no one else could know as well as Bruce Banner did. The dream-Hulk loomed over a sea of children's puppies and whales and three-headed kittens, so out of place that Sandy wasn't sure whether to call it a distraction or simply a somehow confused dream. He didn't care, though. It was Banner. He reached the sandy Hulk and touched its huge hand with his own. In the blink of an eye, he was in Banner's dream.

It was dark, and not sandy any longer. Actual dreams seldom were. It was all mostly symbolic, just like a lot about the Guardians was anyway. Sandy stood in the middle of a half-formed city he could recognise dimly as an amalgam of at least eight big cities all over the world. Some of the buildings lay in ruins, and Sandy had a feeling Banner would blame himself for that even in dream. The air felt heavy, and somehow artificial. Sandy could almost smell the sedatives Banner had no doubt been given. Sandy had visited several drug-induced dreams during his long life, but they always had a somehow twisted feel to them that he didn't like even in situations where the drugs had been necessary.

He floated through the mashup of skyscrapers and slums and tried to find some kind of clue as to where the dreamer really was. The problem here was that Banner himself probably didn't know either. That would make things tricky, but not impossible. Sandy closed his eyes again, and concentrated. He was not that far away from his starting point dreamwise, but in real life that was different. He had to do some counting. But now that he was here, they would have Banner's location in no time.

"Hey? Is that really you?"

Sandy opened his eyes and turned around to see Banner's dreamself standing in front of him. The man looked sickly, but was definitely recognisable as Bruce Banner. Some people were so different in their dreams, and to be fair, Sandy had been expecting Banner to be some kind of monstrous mix of Bruce and the Hulk, but perhaps this dream wasn't one of those dreams. Sandy waved and nodded happily.

_I am here to find you. You were taken from your home._

Banner seemed to think about it for a moment. It took a while, but that was understandable. Human minds had a lot on their plate just trying to put a dream into somewhat coherent form.

"Yeah, that's right," Bruce finally said, "There was a… green man. Not like me, but… well, kind of like me but different. He's dangerous. You have to be careful."

_We will be._

"Do you know where I am?"

_I will soon. Do _you_ know where you are?_

"No. I don't think I have woken up since they got me."

_Don't worry. We will get you home._

Bruce nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Just… make sure I won't hurt anyone."

_I will._

There was a slightly forlorn look on dream-Bruce's face. Like the man had wanted Sandy to stay. But Sandy couldn't. He needed to get there in real life to save them. He finished the necessary calculations in his head and opened his eyes, and was again in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base, in the middle of an argument.

* * *

Fury was barking orders into his microphone, and the thundering of footsteps was reverberating through the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, as it went from idle to full alert in an impressively short time. Of course, Steve already knew how impressive S.H.I.E.L.D. could be, so he wasn't that surprised. He saw Santa Claus nod in approval, though, and survey the situation with the eyes of a clearly experienced leader. Then again, hadn't he been a bandit chief or something before becoming the jolly toymaker he was today? At least that was what Steve remembered from their conversations back when their relationship had only started to become more about talking and less about firepower and distrusting glances. Fury stopped his line of orders only briefly to look at the Guardians with a frown that no one sane dared to question.

"The Taskmaster is loose," he said, "But you knew that already. We're locating him as we speak, but if you have any more tricks we weren't aware of, now would be the time to use them."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of very professional footsteps in the corridors, and then Toothiana reluctantly spoke up.

"He clearly wanted his memories," she said, "He pretended not to care too much, but I _know _these things. He's lost, and he wants to be found. Or at least to _find_."

She sighed, her fragile-looking wings fluttering even more rapidly.

"I told you I'm not going to allow you to use his memories as a blackmail tool. But right now… Well, like I said, I'm sure this can be fixed, but I want to do it without any more bloodshed. So…"

She closed her eyes, and in a moment she was surrounded by a group of tiny versions of herself. Or her children. Or… Steve wasn't sure what the little tooth fairies were to their queen, other than subjects and people she cared greatly about.

"Baby Tooth!"

Steve was startled by the abrupt shout. Jack, who had been sitting quietly in a corner, had suddenly snapped out of his sombre trance and extended his hands towards the fairies. One of the tiny fairies immediately zipped to him and landed on his palms. Jack's smile was almost blindingly happy.

"I haven't seen you in a while! How're things in the Tooth Palace? For you, I mean. Tooth's been fine, at least. She hasn't been working too crazily, right?"

The little fairy on Jack's hands voiced a few chirps in return. The other tooth fairies had also turned to look at Jack with misty eyes. Jack flashed them all a white-toothed smile, and they seemed to faint in the air.

"Huh, so even Frosty has his own fan club," said Tony, "Some people just have no taste."

"Girls!" Toothiana spoke, the smile in her voice only barely there, "Focus! We have a situation. And Jack, try not to distract them."

Jack smiled at Toothiana as well, and even the mighty queen of the tooth fairies seemed to melt a little.

"I can't help it if I'm awesome. And pretty."

Steve didn't remember meeting many teenage boys who would have declared their own prettiness with a great deal of pride. Toothiana cleared her throat.

"Focus!" she snapped, "Girls, I need you to retrieve the teeth of The Taskmaster. Got it?"

The tiny fairies nodded. The fairy on Jack's hands, named Baby Tooth, nodded as well, and Jack quickly whispered something to her before she took off with her sisters. The tooth fairies were gone in a little flicker of feathers, before Steve even had time to find anything about the whole scene odd. Then again, he had faced so many strange things already, that thinking about anything as odd would have been pointless. Even so, there was still something about the Guardians that seemed to bother a lot of the Avengers. Maybe it was the fact that they were childish. In many ways, the Guardians didn't belong on the battlefield. They were spirits to make little kids happy, not to fight secret agents and assassins. That didn't seem to bother the Guardians right now, though. Steve remembered how reluctant the Guardians had been to join their fights before. And, Steve realised, maybe they still were. This wasn't about fighting. The Guardians had just come to make sure their – friends – could the Avengers be called that already? – were okay, and had just been sucked into the fights that had broken out around them. And then there was Mother Nature, who was still looming somewhere in the back of this all, and with even the Guardians clearly unsure about what she would do. Not to mention the Boogeyman, who had to have something to do with all this. So no, the Guardians were still not in this to fight the fights of S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers. But they were still compromising a lot to help them. Steve didn't know if any of the others realised that.

The Sandman suddenly woke up, and waved his hands wildly. None of the others seemed to notice that, though.

"So now it's okay to use his memories?" Fury asked.

"Not for blackmail," Toothiana insisted, "But we can bargain with him, when we find him."

"In this situation, there isn't much to separate the two. As soon as my agents catch him, he's going to an even better guarded cell, and we _are _going to interrogate him."

The Sandman's waves were getting more furious.

"The difference is in the presentation," said Toothiana, "_And _I will sleep my nights better knowing we had at least some standards with a delicate situation such as this! Well, _if _I slept much anyway."

"I don't care. As long as we get results."

"You will. But you will do so through kindness, and…"

"Hey, the Sandman's awake," Steve said, "And I think he has something to say."

The Sandman gave him a little bow, and then started forming rapid sand images over his head. It was impossible for Steve to keep up with them, even though his brain was wired to process information faster than normal humans.

"Hey, Sandy," said Jack, who was now sitting on the crook of his staff, which was propped on the floor with no regard to the laws of physics, "Can you go a bit slower?"

The Sandman nodded quickly, something that looked like a smiley face and a gun hanging over his head for a moment before dissolving. The Sandman seemed thoughtful for a while, and then he formed some letters, numbers, and degrees over his head.

Fury studied the coordinates.

"Banner's in there?" he asked.

The Sandman nodded, and then pointed to himself. The message was clear: _I will go_.

"Not alone," said Fury, "I want some of my men there as well. Rogers, you go with the Sandman and scout ahead. I'll get a small copter to pick you up and bring in backup if needed."

"Got it," said Steve, already aching for some action, "The Sandman will take me there, right?"

The Sandman nodded again.

"I'll go too," said Jack, "Sandy and I work well together. Plus with all these Asgardian creeps going around, there could be some nasty surprises in there."

Fury seemed to seriously consider saying no, but in the end he probably decided that it would be no use. First of all Jack would probably go regardless of what Fury said, and secondly the kid had already frozen one fourth of the walls in the room with his mere presence, and Fury clearly didn't like that.

"Is a good idea," said North, "Aside from Sandy, Jack has most offensive power. And they are both fast and can get anywhere quickly."

"Fine, I don't need more convincing," said Fury, "Rogers, keep them in line."

"Will do," Steve said, "Remember guys, this will be an infiltration mission and then a rescue. If everything goes right, at least."

"Don't worry," said Jack, grinning again as if he hadn't just been moping in a corner, "We Guardians are _excellent _infiltrators."

No one could argue with that.

* * *

They were all set, then. Set to save a man who was in trouble simply because someone thought he might be in the way. Because that was what all this was starting to feel like. They still didn't quite know what whoever was behind all these attacks really wanted, but to Jack it felt like someone was trying to pave way for something bigger. What it was, he had no idea. Maybe the S.H.I.E.L.D. people would know better. This was clearly more on their field of expertise. Right now he just needed to worry about getting Bruce out of wherever he was. But before that, there was one other thing he needed to do.

Tony Stark was sitting in his own corner, tapping his computers with finger-breaking speed. He seemed to be anxious to get going, though. Of course he was. Jack did his best to keep down the anger that gnawed at him and walked to a stop in front of the billionaire, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. Tony looked up.

"What? Shouldn't you be going?"

"Steve's getting suited up," Jack said, "He said it wouldn't take more than a couple of minutes."

"Good. The sooner we get Bruce out the better," Tony paused his typing for a second and frowned before continuing, "Wait, do you have a problem with me?"

"What makes you think that?"

"My computer has frost all over it."

Indeed it had.

"Oh," Jack said, "Sorry. Not intentional this time. But yeah, I do have a problem with you. That's why I wanted to talk to you before we go our merry ways to save a bunch of people."

Tony wiped some frost from the top of his computer screen.

"Okay. Look, I was just being curious. I told you, it's the big question. Immortality. Coming back from the dead. Nothing personal."

Jack clenched his hands into fists around his sleeves.

"You don't have to play nice. I know you either don't believe me or want me to feel guilty about all this. This is because of your stupid hero complex and wanting to save everyone. Which, of course, is a good goal, but I think you need to put things into perspective before you assemble your robot armies to frighten people."

Now Tony actually really stopped staring at his screen and stood up slowly so that he could look down on Jack. Whether the effect was intentional or not, Jack wasn't about to have any of it. He floated upwards until he was eye level with Tony.

"Perspective?" Tony repeated, "What do you know about that? I don't care how much 'life experience' you have, you're still a kid who died and was then just handed a second chance _and _super powers. You should be out there fighting global warming and… and saving people who are trapped under avalanches, or whatever instead of getting people's tongues stuck in flagpoles!"

Jack had to bite his lip for a couple of seconds to stop himself from starting a shouting match in the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base.

"Okay, first of all," he said with forced calm, "What people do with their tongues is none of my business. Second, what makes you think I _haven't _done all I can for those bigger things you just listed? I'm just one guy! And so are you! _That's_ the perspective you're seriously missing!"

Tony looked like he wanted to say something, but Jack didn't want to give him the chance. Not right now. If he let the man speak now, he'd probably just get angrier.

"And I know you're hung up about this whole returning from the dead -thing, and I'm not going to claim that the Man in the Moon is somehow infallible and omniscient, because he's just one guy too. I don't know how he brought me back and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you because I don't think people are_ supposed _to just keep living forever."

"It's not about living forever!" Tony snapped, "It's about saving people who shouldn't have died yet!"

Jack opened his mouth, but then realised he had run out of words. Tony Stark stood in front of him, deceptively calm but at the same time filled with rage. And in a way Jack understood him, but only in a way. Heavy footfalls cut into the uncomfortable silence like a knife, and Jack almost flinched when North's large hand landed on his shoulder.

"What is problem here?" he asked.

Jack hugged his staff without even realising it.

"No… nothing," he mumbled, "Don't worry about it."

"Mr. Rogers and Sandy are waiting. They are already outside."

"Yeah. Thanks… take care, Tony."

North led him outside, leaving Tony alone with his maybe a little bit justified confusion. Jack chewed his lip again and looked up to North's worried face.

"North… why do you think the Man in the Moon brought me back?" he asked quietly.

North stopped walking.

"Why ask that?" he said, "Why wouldn't he?"

"Because… he hasn't brought anyone else back, has he?"

North shook his head, maybe to answer Jack's question, or maybe to express some kind of sadness.

"I don't know," he said finally, "I doubt he has. Bringing people back is very, very difficult. A Guardian is different, but even that doesn't always work."

He fell silent for a moment, and Jack knew he was remembering the few Guardians who hadn't made it through the centuries of battle and hardship. He didn't know much about them, other than their names. Katherine and Nightlight. North had sometimes said that Jack reminded him of Nightlight, with his never ending smiles and wild and free nature. But that was practically all he'd said about them, and Jack didn't want to push the issue. North sighed.

"People, though… Bringing them back is not meant to be done. Especially not someone who has no magic."

Jack looked down at his feet, and at the swirling frost around them.

"Like me… before… all this."

Jack gestured to his staff, his hair, and the snow that always clung to him. North just gave him a very gentle smile that seemed to always accept everyone the way they were. Like the wonders every living being was.

"Oh, you had magic, all right," North said, "You believed."

It wasn't a good answer, and Jack knew there _were _no good answers. At least not before Baby Tooth came back and followed through with Jack's secret request. But at least North managed to make Jack feel a little better. He smiled.

"Thanks, North."

"Anytime. Now, off you go. You need to save Mr. Banner."

Jack gave North a mock salute.

"Roger that!"

They reached Sandy's coordinates quickly. Of course they did. Sandy had formed an aeroplane that looked a bit too sparkly to be badass but had a very classy double-decker design that Jack liked. Steve didn't seem to mind the sparkly ride either, especially after Sandy had reassured him that it wouldn't show up on any radar or even be seen by non-believers. The most people might see was Captain America sitting in the air, a sight that would no doubt confuse anyone who saw it. They stopped above an abandoned-looking warehouse that was located far away from anything properly considered civilisation in the US. Jack sat on one of the plane's wings, cross-legged and peering down at the concrete block underneath them. He listened to the gentle winds around them, but they didn't have much to say except that there was something frightening in there. Jack focused some more and could almost feel the crackle of… radiation?

"The wind doesn't like that place," Jack said, "And I think there's something radioactive in there. We should be super careful."

Sandy nodded.

_Banner said something about another green man, _he mimed. He formed the universal sign for anything nuclear above his head. Jack shivered a bit. He didn't like radiation.

"If everything goes well we won't even be noticed by anyone," Steve reassured them, "Are you sure that Banner is down there?"

Sandy nodded again and pointed downwards.

"Got it," Steve said, "We'll move in slowly and quietly. First I'll get a connection to the base and see if someone can disable any possible security."

After Steve had made some calls and talked about technical things Jack didn't understand much about, Steve asked Sandy to land the dreamsand plane, and they were back on the ground. Jack concentrated for a second to keep his natural coldness in check. Surprise winter spells could set off some alarms. One never knew. Steve led them to a smaller back door and tested it first. It was locked. Steve merely raised a brow and yanked the door open. The lock gave way to the man's super strength easily. The guard standing behind the door turned in a millisecond, but Steve was faster. He struck both sides of the guard's neck and the man slumped into his arms, unconscious.

"Whoah," said Jack, "That's pretty cool."

Steve didn't say anything, but smiled quickly before hiding the unconscious body into the nearest bush. Then the coast was clear, at least for the moment. Sandy walked inside and started heading towards something with a clear idea of where he was going. Steve pushed the door back shut, and it at least seemed to close just fine even with a slightly broken lock. Jack followed the two, clutching his staff and for once finding his invisibility reassuring. The feel of radioactivity was stronger now, and whatever was giving it off was something Jack didn't want to meet.

The place didn't look nearly as abandoned from the inside as it did outside. Sure, the walls were a bit cracked and no one had really bothered making the place cosy in any way, but there was clearly life there, and through some reinforced windows they could see storerooms full of weapons and other gear for secret evil plans. The place even had some bunkhouses they sneaked past especially carefully. Someone was clearly preparing for something pretty big.

There was no sign of Bruce, but Sandy still seemed to know what he was doing. He was walking briskly and with no care for anyone who might burst out of a door or past a corner. Not that he or Jack needed to worry, really. Jack doubted that many people here believed in them. Adults were tricky when it came to belief. Usually they had at least some level of disbelief for fantasy even when they _wanted _to believe or acknowledge the existence of mythical beings. Jack was pretty sure most of the people here were like that too. Except the Asgardians – if they were here – and possibly whoever else the mind behind all these attacks had invited into their inner circle. Jack didn't like the realisation that they still didn't know who else they might have to face here.

Suddenly Sandy halted in a spot where the corridor intersected with another and raised his hand. He created a few warning signs and then an arrow that pointed to the right. He then sprang into a quick run to the left. Steve sneaked after him, and Jack glanced to the right and didn't see anything besides a green, sickly glow from the end of the corridor. It was not reassuring. Jack hurried after the other two.

After a couple of turns Sandy came to a stop again, and pointed at old yet sturdy double doors that were being guarded by two armed military men. Steve frowned at them.

"He's behind those doors?" he whispered so quietly even Jack had to struggle to hear it.

Sandy nodded and then formed a ball of dreamsand into his hand. He raised his hand again, but this time like someone giving the start signal in a race.

_Ready._

_Set._

Sandy threw the dreamsand ball that exploded in the air and hit both of the guards in the face. They dropped to the floor, snoring.

_Go!_

Steve sprang to action, and pushed the doors open with ease. He had his incredibly patriotic shield at the ready, but it wasn't needed... yet. The room behind the doors was empty. Well, not entirely. There was an elaborate-looking console at the far end of the large room. And there was also a very futuristic contraption that seemed to be creating some sort of force field around a sleeping – or unconscious – man.

The man was, of course, Bruce Banner.

"Nice work, Sandy," Jack said quietly even though he knew he probably didn't need to keep his voice down. Sandy bowed low as if he had just reached the end of an especially good dance number. Steve approached the force field cautiously as if it would bite him, and studied it intensely.

"Well, that looks advanced," he said finally, "I guess we have to get that console working if we want to free him.

"Can you do it?" Jack asked, "I usually just freeze electronics so if just getting it to stop working is enough, then I'm your guy."

"I'll take a look. Keep watch."

Steve was quick to run to the console. It was a mess of buttons and small screens, and Jack hoped Steve would figure it out quickly. The green glow in the corridor really hadn't made him feel any more comfortable about sneaking around in here. Steve pressed a couple of buttons, and some of the lights on the console came to life. Jack clenched his hands into fists. The air felt heavier and strange. Again he could almost hear the crackling he had sensed before.

"Okay…" said Steve, "Almost there. Just need to press… this, and then this… and then… do you guys feel that?"

"What, you mean the feeling of your inner Geiger counter doing all kinds of somersaults?" Jack said, "Yeah. I do. We have to get out of here. Fast."

"Agreed. I just need to…" whatever Steve needed to do, he couldn't say it out loud, because suddenly his knees buckled and he fell.

"Steve!" Jack rushed to the man's side, all orders about keeping watch forgotten, "What's going on?"

Then he felt it too. An oppressive feeling that hit him like a wall of flaming bricks. He gasped and fell to his knees next to Steve. Quick footsteps made him struggle to look up, and he managed to see a pair of legs before a glowing green arm smacked him aside without any effort.

Jack had never had to experience the feeling of being thawed after becoming numb with cold. He was always cold, never numb with it, and had only very vague memories of what thawing felt like when he had been human. He did know it involved a very unpleasant stinging sensation, and that was why he was only incredibly surprised instead of panicking when said sting spread all over his body and intensified until he felt like he would die of it because his body didn't know what to do anymore. He saw Sandy stepping forward, shielding both him and the prone form of Steve Rogers from the green man with Chinese features who had stepped inside the room.

"So, you are some of those Guardians I've been told about," the man said in accented English, "Interesting."

Jack willed his powers to create a shield of frost around him and sighed in relief when he felt said frost spreading on his skin and over his clothes. Icicles grew in his hair, but he didn't mind. His hair was always frozen in clumps anyway. He got up shakily. His body still tingled with the sudden heat he had been blasted with, but he would manage. He hid his discomfort behind a smile with centuries of experience.

"And who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

"I am the Radioactive Man," said the… well, radioactive man, "Or that's what they call me. A bit unimaginative, maybe, but fitting. And you are the Sandman, and Jack Frost. Local legends who are realer than one would think."

He looked at Steve, who too had struggled to his feet but was obviously faring worse than Jack or Sandy. That made sense, of course. Even with the super soldier serum, Steve was probably still pretty vulnerable to nuclear radiation. More resistant, maybe, considering he still had his skin and even his hair, but the radiation was quickly taking a toll on him. The Radioactive Man glanced at the force field that held Bruce captive, and then at the console.

"And there is Captain America. The most disgustingly patriotic super soldier one can imagine. So you sneaked all the way in here, just like the Baron was afraid of. Good thing he told us to watch the place."

"Us?" Jack repeated.

"That is correct, Jokul Frosti," said a familiar, deep voice, "Us."

The Executioner stepped through a doorway, his hands in loosely clenched fists and his mind clearly ready to beat the intruders to a pulp.

"And you are exactly the one I hoped to face again, Frosti. You stole from me, and I intend to get back what is mine."

"Really?" Jack said and pretended not to notice that the Radioactive Man had again directed a wave of radiation at them, "Well, you _kidnapped _one of us, _and_ attacked us, so you can't really pretend like you're the victim here. Besides, that axe was really nasty."

The Executioner frowned deeply, and Jack could tell the stolen axe was a sore subject for the man. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to piss off the superpowered warrior, but it was probably a bit too late already to worry about that.

"Enough talk," said the Radioactive Man, and Jack again felt the heavy heat of radiation passing through him and making it hard to breathe, "We were told to eliminate them. Might as well do it now rather than have the meagre soldiers here shooting up the delicate machinery."

"Agreed," the Executioner growled. He took a step forward, but was then stopped when Steve's shield hit him in the temple with enough force to knock him to one knee. Steve was moving quickly, landing a solid kick to the Executioner's side.

"Get Bruce out!" he said in a soldier-like tone without looking back at Jack or Sandy, "I'll…"

He was cut off by a blast of radiation that struck him in the side. He grunted and only barely managed to stay on his feet. He swayed, and then his feet gave out again. The Radioactive Man had raised his hand, and was gathering up more energy into his outstretched palm without care for any of the world's Geiger counters. Jack bent his knees, ready to dodge, but as the man fired his radioactive projectile, Sandy jumped in front of it, throwing a shield of sand between him and the blast. A whip made of dreamsand formed in one slashing swing of Sandy's arm, and it wrapped around the Radioactive Man's torso. Jack could barely catch Sandy's hastily formed warning signs and the order to stay away from the walking nuclear reactor, before Sandy yanked the man into a wall and then out of the room. The green glow mixed with golden light, and the whole corridor behind them was bathed in surreal light before it darkened again. The Executioner roared, and Jack only managed to turn his head to see the man's slightly murderous frown before a fist hit him in the face. He was flung through the air again, and the punch, along with the aftereffects of radiation, made him dizzy. He shook his head and shot a blast of ice at the Executioner, who took the blast in the chest and staggered enough to give Steve time to land a good series of hits to the man's head.

It was sometimes a bit scary to see the otherwise so gentle Steve Rogers go full-on Captain America on someone. There was a very calculating, professional look in his eyes, then. Something that reminded Jack that underneath all those Boy Scout smiles Steve was a soldier through and through. It just didn't _fit _somehow. And yet it did. Frighteningly well.

Jack pushed those thoughts aside and focused on doing the task that had apparently been left for him: getting Bruce out. He jumped and soared over the two fighting men and landed in front of the console. Steve had already paved some way for him into the inner workings of the thing, but Jack still didn't have much more choice than to randomly push the more promising-looking buttons and hope for the best. The first two buttons did nothing, but the third made the console ask quite politely if the button pusher would like to disable the force fields.

"Awesome," Jack whispered.

"Look out!"

That was Steve. The shout was followed by a pretty sickening thud. Jack ducked instinctively and spun around when the Executioner's swing went over his head. Jack went to swipe the man's feet from under him with his staff, but the Executioner danced away with graceful steps that looked kind of out of place when done by a man who was like a mountain of muscle. Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Steve, who was slumped near a wall and looked a bit green. Even as he watched, the usually so mighty Captain America slid to the ground and fought to stay conscious. There was blood running from his mouth, but that was probably the least of his problems. Jack had a feeling the Radioactive Man had affected Captain America more than the man wanted to admit. This wasn't good at all. A fist to the forehead silenced those thoughts, and another hit to the solar plexus made him see stars and lose his grip on his staff. Jack stumbled backwards against a wall and coughed. His ribs had been rattled, but not broken. Still, the Executioner was clearly not playing around this time. He needed to forget his worries about Steve's well-being for a second and really focus on the fight.

The Executioner walked over to the fallen staff and picked it up. Jack clenched his hands into fists and was back in the game in a millisecond. He charged and dodged a hit, and aimed a pretty good kick at the Executioner's head. The man's head snapped back, and Jack made a grab for his weapon. His beloved shepherd's crook was quickly jerked out of his reach, though.

"Now, little Frosti," the Executioner said menacingly, "Let us not make this too hard for anyone. Where did you take my axe?"

Jack wiped his forehead and his fingers were stained with his almost black blood. Okay, it was official: the Executioner had a _mean_ swing.

"If you think I'm going to tell you, then you're even stupider than I thought," Jack said, and the Executioner's frown told him the Asgardian didn't like it at all.

"So be it, then," he spat, "In that case, we will fight to the death right now. A rematch, if you will. But first, I believe a weapon for a weapon is only fair."

A horribly ominous shiver went through Jack's spine, and it was weird because he hardly ever shivered. The Executioner was gripping his staff with both hands now. Jack took a step forward.

"Wait-!"

A crack resounded in the room, as did Jack's scream.

* * *

**Author's Note: Whew, made it! Sorry to keep you waiting, but Christmas happened. And ****_Fallout 4_**** happened too. The name of the chapter is rather appropriate then even on a meta level, I guess. Although I actually picked the name long before I even knew F4 was coming out. :) But I also had writing-related reasons for the delay. Namely the fact that I've been struggling with this story quite a bit. This sort of thing usually happens at the halfway point of my stories, when I seriously question my writing skills and everything I've written and also try to desperately piece together my still a bit disjointed ideas for what's going to happen. But hey, fight scenes!**

**I made Sandy immune or at least very resistant to nuclear radiation, because… well, he used stars as ships in the books, so I figure he's pretty resistant to any kind of radiation. And I name-dropped Katherine and Nightlight, the Guardians from the books who didn't make it into the film. Well, Nightlight at least sort of did. And I finally indulged my sick mind that has wanted an excuse to break Jack's staff ever since I started writing RotG fanfiction. Muahahahahahaaa!**

**Anyway, feedback would be appreciated. And happy holidays everyone! I hope you've had a nice time and will have an even nicer New Year!**

**Review responses:**

**Crossover Junkie: Thanks! And I think that in the film backstory, MiM did offer Pitch a place as a Guardian, but he refused. Mostly out of spite, I guess.**

**Mala: Interesting theories. I'm not actually seeing Nightlight and Katherine's relationship as anything more than puppy love, mostly because Nightlight isn't in my eyes emotionally mature enough for proper romance. Yeah, he's like… thousands of years old, but it's clear that his mind still works like that of a child. But that's just how I see him. I do like Katherine and Nightlight's little romance, mostly because there's this sense of it inevitably becoming to a possibly tragic end that I'm getting from it, and I'm a sucker for good things coming to an end.**

**And yeah, the Guardians have pretty darn tragic pasts. I love their backstories. I really like how the book series has some very dark things in it while it still keeps its very idealistic view on things. It's what I feel the best kids' stories are made of.**


	11. Broken and Fallen

**11\. Broken and Fallen**

The Sandman knew everyone on Earth. Well, at least he knew a little bit about everyone. He knew them through dreams, and everyone dreamed in some form. So he also knew something about the Radioactive Man, whose real name was Chen Lu. He knew about the darkness in his dreams. The darkness that he had only sometimes managed to chase away. He knew a little bit of the man's experiments and aspirations. He hadn't, however, expected them to lead to this kind of… destruction.

Sandy mentally shook his head in disappointment. Nuclear technology was problematic enough when people tried to use it productively. And this… man he was now fighting? It was just ridiculously unsafe to everyone. He was _not_ going to just sit idly by and let the man do whatever he pleased with his powers. The Radioactive Man was flung against a tree when Sandy finally let him go, and the tree started shedding its now crispy brown leaves when the man got back up. Sandy didn't give him time to properly get back into the fight. He zipped through the air, his trusted dreamsand gathering into whips. He lashed out. His attack was stopped by the air.

Sandy blinked. The Radioactive Man smiled, protected behind an almost solid layer of… a field of some sort, one that Sandy's attack hadn't got through. Okay, that was interesting. What else did the man have up his sleeve?

A green hand shot up, palm directed at Sandy, and a blast of concussive energy hit Sandy in the face.

The Sandman considered himself a calm, pleasant person. And most people agreed with that. However, most people also agreed that the Sandman was also a very calm, _deadly _person when provoked into a real fight. He raised his hands, and very calmly drowned his opponent in sand. When the man refused to stay down, and instead charged at him with a series of heated energy blasts, he very collectedly met every single attack with either a quick dodge or a blow of his own. The Radioactive Man was strong, but he was not the most experienced of fighters. Sandy saw it almost immediately. Still, he couldn't underestimate the man. Novice fighters were always the most unpredictable ones.

A blast grazed Sandy's shoulder, scorching it. Sandy spun in the air to avoid the next blast and wrapped one of his whips around the green man's arm in a swift flick of his wrist. His other whip snagged the man's leg, and with a couple of more swings of his arms, the man was flung aside again. He hit the ground with a grunt, and looked up with something Sandy could interpret as fascination.

"I have never met a humanoid creature who can withstand my radiation so well," he said, "You are a very interesting specimen."

Sandy frowned slightly. He hadn't been referred to as a "specimen" before, but he decided at once that he didn't like it. He formed a ball of dreamsand and prepared to throw it. A flash of green light made him squint, but it was nothing compared to the light he'd had to stare into during the years he'd spent taming stars in space. What did feel much worse, however, was a radiation blast that hit him in the chest. This one was sharper and burned worse than the ones that had hit him before. Sandy faltered and was pushed back until his back hit the ground. Odd, he didn't remember flying downwards. He was up quickly, but shakily. Something was not right here. Sandy slowly looked down, and saw a gaping hole in his chest.

"Not so invulnerable after all," said the Radioactive Man, a satisfied smile in his voice.

* * *

Bruce Banner woke up to a pained scream. Groggily, he opened his eyes and saw a huge man towering over the hunched form of Jack Frost. The man was holding two sticks in his hands, and it took a while until Bruce realised the sticks were two halves of the shepherd's crook Jack always carried around. Bruce stood up gingerly, but could only take a single step before a force field stopped him. Bruce raised his hand and touched the wavering air. That's right, he had been captured. But… what was Frost doing here? And… was that an unconscious Steve Rogers in the corner? Bruce had a lot of catching up to do.

Jack charged at his opponent, which seemed like a bold move seeing how he was unarmed and the strange man was at least thrice as big as he was. The man looked at the boy oddly and easily dodged the punch and kick the frosty boy sent his way. The next punch got through, though, and Bruce caught a glimpse of an icicle the size of a baseball bat that shattered against the man's skull. The mountain of muscle shook his head and struck out with the halves of the staff, and Jack had to duck under them. One of the halves struck the wall with such force that the wood splintered. Jack gasped in apparent pain, and for a while Bruce didn't know why. Then the man ripped the halfway broken piece of the staff off, and Jack fell to his knees, from where he was immediately knocked on his side. It all clicked together in Bruce's mind, then. The staff had to be connected to Jack more closely than Bruce had thought. Bruce punched the force field and only ended up bruising his knuckles. He looked up. The field was too small for him to transform inside, and he doubted that even the Other Guy could smash through energy like this. It wasn't exactly physical. Still, he couldn't just sit here while people were getting beat up right next to him!

The giant of a man stomped on Jack's shoulder, turning him forcefully on his back. Jack yelped. It just seemed to anger the man even more

"You humiliated me, and then stole from me! But I will triumph here! Now, Frosti… Where. Is. My. Weapon?!"

He was punctuating each word in the end with a firm stomp, and ended his little rant by cracking the staff once more. Jack was screaming by that point, and Bruce wasn't just angry. He was furious.

"You son of a _bitch_!" he whispered. Then he roared. His muscles started twitching the way they always did before the transformation. Force field or not, he was _not_ going to watch this any longer. Bruce felt his head hitting the topmost point of the spherical force field. Then his mind started to cloud over with a red haze. He raised his arm and hit the field as hard as he could with the extremely limited space he had. He didn't get through, but that didn't mean he would quit now. The other angry giant certainly didn't seem to be going to quit any time soon. The Hulk punched the field again.

* * *

Tony felt slightly uncomfortable in his current situation. Being almost sandwiched between Fury and Santa Claus while they walked along a corridor would probably have that effect on pretty much anyone. It didn't help that both of said men were casting him either cold or impatient looks. It was especially chilling – pun maybe intended – coming from the jolly Father Christmas, and Tony figured it had a lot to do with the fact that he had said some not so well thought out things to the kid, whom Santa Claus seemed to have adopted or something. Tony tried to cover up his discomfort by focusing intently on the small holographic screen that followed him thanks to a wrist computer he had on. He had called some of his best suits that were already finished and deployed them towards the place that Sandman had pointed out to them. His hands were itching to get to pilot one first hand again. But he had promised not to. But maybe…

No. Things were still relatively under control. Just because Tony would have wanted to be there to punch the living daylights out of the bastard who had ordered those weirdos to blow up his tower didn't mean he could forget that he was currently a part of a team. And it was – for the most part – working too. The team. Not the forgetting part.

Fury stopped at a room that probably functioned as the local command centre. Tony and Santa Claus were left in the corridor for a few moments when Fury told them to stay put and barged in to bark orders.

Crap.

This was going to be incredibly awkward.

"You should not have upset Jack," Santa Claus said almost immediately after they'd been left alone.

Tony refused to look up, but he felt a rather poignant stare at the side of his head.

"I was just being curious," he said, painfully aware of how defensive he sounded, "Yeah, it wasn't the best thing I could have said, and I'm sorry. Can we maybe forget about it now?"

"I hope so. But you need to forget it too."

"What?" Tony couldn't help looking up this time, "I'm the one who suggested it!"

Santa Claus crossed his arms. The tattoos on them were still something Tony had a hard time connecting with _Santa Claus_ for crying out loud. It was just one of the things that made the Guardians so surreal.

"I appreciate curiosity," Santa said, "but sometimes it can get too much."

"Hey, I wouldn't have this many questions if you guys helped me understand you a bit better."

Santa looked mildly confused under the beard and bushy eyebrows.

"What is there to understand? We protect children. We make them happy. That is it."

"Really? That's all indestructible spirits with amazing powers can do?"

Santa suddenly looked very solemn.

"We have limits too. We haven't come this far without work… and sacrifice."

He sighed. Tony's hologram went to sleep mode, forgotten.

"There is much you don't know about us, Mr. Stark," Santa said quietly, "So kindly save your judgement. We fight, and we work, just like you. And sometimes we die, but that… is different."

"How?"

Santa frowned.

"Because we are more magic and less… solid stuff. We stay in _ideas_. But ideas can fade or be forgotten. Or corrupted. Or… get lost on their own."

"That doesn't tell me anything useful."

"I know," there was an almost smug look on Santa's face, "Why would I tell you if we really can be destroyed? Bad for mystery."

With that, Santa walked right into the command centre, and left Tony alone in the corridor. Santa wasn't kicked back out, but it was probably just because he was invisible to almost everyone in the room.

"Well, thanks for nothing," Tony huffed at the empty corridor.

* * *

Jack didn't know how many pieces his staff had been broken to by now. He didn't know how many times the royally ticked off Executioner had hit him or even how many of his bones were now cracked. Okay, well, his bones were probably intact, actually. Physical damage was usually negligible to him. Still, he could taste blood in his mouth and all physical pain was magnified by the pain of his broken staff that seemed to fracture his very being, so one couldn't blame him for overestimating the damage. At least he could still breathe. Moving was another matter, though.

Another kick, this time to his stomach. He coughed and curled up, and tried to focus his almost completely blackened vision. He had to get to the force field console and free Bruce. Or at the very least he had to get Steve awake so Steve and Bruce could escape. But how could he get to the console if he couldn't even move? A snap clouded his mind when yet another piece was forcibly ripped from the staff, and by extension, him. He tried to stifle the groan that built up in his throat, but it got through anyway.

"Still alive, Frosti?" the Executioner said almost emotionlessly, "Can you even die at all?"

Jack forced a bloodied grin on his face, despite the pain.

"No," he managed to say, "You can't… kill me like… this."

The Executioner nodded and stepped forward. Jack tried to squirm away, but the pain stopped him. His hand brushed a discarded piece of his staff, and he grabbed it even though it didn't make him feel any more confident in his ability to win.

"I welcome the challenge," the man said, reaching down and gripping Jack's neck.

Jack was lifted up, and he reflexively clutched at the arm that had a death grip on him. He couldn't breathe, and boy, did he hate _that_. He kicked the man's muscled torso to no avail, and frost spread from his fingertips over the man's hands out of sheer discomfort. It did nothing, but it did give him an idea that managed to pierce the haze of pain and suffocation. The man's skin was much tougher than that of humans, but even he still had blood and water in him. Jack channelled his coldness into the man's hand, under his skin, and then forced the freezing water to form spikes.

The Executioner roared in surprise and pain, and Jack was flung to the floor, where he had enough consciousness left to keep rolling even when he should have stopped, and he kept it up until his back hit the console that had been his goal all along. The Executioner was clutching his wrist, and through his now lumpy skin poked nasty looking icicles that made Jack himself feel a little sick.

_Desperate times and all… sorry about that, big guy._

He reached up and grabbed the console's edge, dragging himself up. He saw Steve stirring in the corner, and not a moment too soon. Jack pushed what he had before deduced to be the _Unlock _button, and the screen flared to life.

_"__Insert password"_

"Oh you've got to be kidding…" Jack whispered. He lifted the shard of staff that was still in his hand, and stabbed it right through the screen.

The force field stuttered before some kind of backup kicked in, but by that time it was already too late. A pair of heavy feet slammed against the floor, and Jack could see a green form springing at the Executioner. Alarms blared to life, and Jack slumped limply on the floor, finally succumbing to the pain and injuries. He knew it wasn't over, and that he should keep moving, but it all felt too difficult. He just wanted to sleep, and to somehow block away the feeling of being shattered and on fire from the inside. His vision blurred completely now, and he didn't have the strength to fight the darkness anymore.

* * *

The Taskmaster didn't like his current situation. True, it was better than sitting in a cell, waiting for the Director or someone else to question him again. It was better than knowing he'd most likely been abandoned and not been paid, and being unable to do much about it at the moment. But merely being out of his cell was a very hollow victory when he realised that the base he was in was rather airtight and no one got in or out without someone knowing about it. Not that he had expected anything else, really. Still, it was frustrating.

Because the place was riddled with cameras, he had had to commandeer an agent's uniform. That too complicated things. If someone found the agent's body before he could get away, the place would surely be on high alert. It was clear that the people around him were already working furiously because they were under attack – thanks to the Baron, no doubt – but so far their attention wasn't so much in the internal security of the base. They had so much trust in their systems even after he had waltzed into their weapons caches with his expired agent codes not too long ago.

The people were getting agitated. Not really in the general sense of the word. Their steps were just a bit more brisk than needed, even for organised agents who knew where to go. Something was happening again. The Taskmaster watched from his inconspicuous corner when a group of uniformed people stormed past him. A quick dig through his memory of the place told him that they were heading towards a small hangar S.H.I.E.L.D. had hidden away in the bunker. That possibly meant that they were also getting out of this place. The Taskmaster thought about it for a second and then joined the group, keeping his head low but not suspiciously so. No one paid him any attention. These people were clearly in a hurry. When they got into the hangar and started loading up into a helicopter that had been prepared for take-off, the Taskmaster dared to smile internally at his luck. And when the helicopter took off, the Taskmaster could overhear that it had been called by Captain America himself. Well, that could make things more complicated. But at least he was out of the base. Now all he had to do was wait for his chance and then seek out the Baron. He could still turn this mess around if he played his cards right.

* * *

Steve coughed, fighting the urge to throw up. He felt absolutely horrible, but by the looks of things it was the last thing he should be worried about right now. The force field around Bruce had apparently gone down at some point, and Bruce – no, the Hulk – had launched himself at the beefy Asgardian. The two were now engaged in a fist-fight that was quickly turning into a beatdown. The Hulk was clearly not in the mood to be gentle. Not that he ever was. The Asgardian man's face quickly twisted into surprise and then into the kind of expression that said _Oh, crap! _Pardon his French. At the moment Steve wasn't feeling well enough to censor his thoughts. Steve pulled himself gingerly to his knees and looked around. The place was in shambles, and pieces of electronics cluttered the floor. There were also pieces of a wooden stick scattered around the place. Steve frowned at them in confusion until he recognised them as pieces of Jack's staff. Speaking of…

Someone groaned. Steve looked up and saw Jack Frost curled up in a very pitiful ball, resting near the console. So he'd been the one to free Hulk, but at what cost? Even at this distance Steve could see that Jack was definitely not well. Steve got back to his feet and limped to the prone boy as quietly as he could. Not that the Executioner could pay much attention to anything other than the green giant that was now pummelling him and smashing his head repeatedly against the wall. Steve crouched next to Jack and out of habit turned him properly to his side and checked his airways first. He was breathing, but it was far too shallow to Steve's liking. Dark blood had trickled down his face from a cut on his forehead. His right eye was black and swollen almost shut. The other eye was still open, though, and looked at Steve with clear relief.

"Jack?" Steve said quietly, "Can you hear me?"

Jack nodded slowly. Then he coughed and winced in pain.

"Th-the… Exec… Ex… that guy… is he still…?"

Steve looked over his shoulder and saw the Hulk smashing the now unconscious-looking man face-first into the floor and stomping on his head. Then, with the threat dealt with and frustrations vented, the green giant seemed to calm down. Hopefully.

"I don't think he's going to be fighting for a while," Steve said, turning to watch again as the Hulk spun to face to them, "Hey, Bruce! I think I need a doctor here!"

Jack coughed again.

"No… just… I'll be fine…"

The Hulk growled and took a threatening step forward.

"Oh no," Steve whispered, "No, no, not now. Hey, buddy, calm down! The threat's been dealt with."

The Hulk wasn't listening. He stomped towards them with only mild hesitation. Steve positioned himself between the Hulk and Jack, even though he knew that he would stand no chance in his current condition. Or probably in any condition for that matter.

"Bruce!" Steve said, "Listen, this is a really bad time! Just… please, calm down. We're friends. You don't want to hurt us."

Another step towards them. Steve clutched his shield and prepared himself.

There was a splash of snow, and then sparkles in the air. The Hulk halted, hesitated, and looked at the snowflakes that now tumbled around him. Then he slowly looked at Jack Frost, who was on his knees in a rather pained huddled position. Despite the obvious discomfort, the kid grew another snowball in his hand and threw it at the Hulk. And then another followed. And another. Just when Steve was about to point out that throwing things at the giant rage monster was not in fact a good idea, the Hulk's face twitched into a strange grimace that… might have been a smile? The green man diminished. Steve held his breath when Bruce Banner took over again. Bruce coughed and actually laughed happily for a split second before he seemed to realise what was going on. He looked at Steve with tired yet wide eyes.

"I… I'm so sorry," Bruce muttered. He brought his hands to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, his shoulders slumping in apology.

"It's okay," said Jack in a quiet voice, "No… no one got hurt."

"Yeah. And you saved us from that guy," Steve said, "We can maybe blame ourselves for possible mistakes later. I'm sure we're not alone in this place. And Jack needs first aid."

"I told you… I'm fine," Jack insisted and didn't sound convincing at all.

"You said that the last time you looked this bad and you weren't fine," Steve said and pushed Jack back down by the shoulder when the kid tried to stand up, "I was really hoping this kind of thing wouldn't happen again on my watch."

"That makes two of us then," Jack wheezed, "Can you… can you get my… my staff?"

Steve looked at the pieces all over the room.

"Uh… It's broken."

"Trust me, I know," Jack winced again and his bruised hand came to clutch at his chest, "Just… get the pieces here… all of them… please…"

"Hey, Jack!" Steve shouted, looking with alarm when Jack's good eye slid shut too, "Don't do this again!"

"Come on, let me see him," said Bruce and crouched next to Steve a bit unsteadily, "You can get the staff."

"What?" Steve said, "I… okay?"

"It's obviously important to him. And when the big guy," Bruce cast a hateful look at the thoroughly beaten up Executioner, "broke it, Jack was clearly in pain."

Steve quickly sprung to action, ignoring his own nausea and called S.H.I.E.L.D. for pick-up while he searched. They didn't have much time. In fact, it was a wonder the soldiers in the base hadn't already found them. The alarms were still blaring, and Steve tried to block the sound or at least fade it into the background. Steve gathered all the pieces of ancient wood he could find. The pieces were still cold in his hands, dead and darkened. He returned and saw that Bruce had turned Jack onto his back and was now feeling along the boy's ribcage.

"Ow!" Jack hissed, "Stop that!"

"I'm just trying to see if there are any broken ribs," Bruce said with forced calm, "I can't believe you're still intact at all. Just lay still."

"No! I need to…" Jack took a deep, rattling breath, "fix my staff… Then it'll be… I'll be fine."

Steve let the pieces clatter mournfully on the floor right next to Jack and glanced at the door. Judging by the organised footsteps, someone – a lot of someones – would burst through soon enough. The alarms were starting to hurt his head.

"Whatever you need to do, do it quick. We have to leave as soon as we can."

Jack got up to his knees, despite the obvious pain of moving, and started arranging the pieces into the shape of the shepherd's crook. The rumble of footsteps was getting louder. Steve staggered towards the door, but then had to stop when the ground tilted and the next thing he knew, he was on his knees, retching and emptying his stomach. What was _wrong_ with him?

"Steve, get back here," Bruce said, "You're in no condition to fight those guys either."

Steve looked at Bruce, who had left Jack to work on the staff and come to crouch by his side.

"If they get here before we can leave-" Steve started hoarsely.

"So we'll just start running now," said Bruce, "Come on, I'm pretty sure what you have is some serious radiation poisoning. That other green guy was here, wasn't he? We need to get both you and Jack treated quickly."

"I called our base. Our transport should be here in a minute or two," Steve replied, standing up on shaky legs, "How's Jack? We need to move."

Jack had gritted his teeth and was clutching two pieces of the staff and pressing them together. Blue light flashed in the crack between the pieces, spreading through them and fixing – or more like healing – the staff on its way. Jack took a deep breath and moved on to the next part, putting every piece back together until he had an almost intact shepherd's crook again. His shoulders slumped, and let out the breath he'd probably been holding for the entire fixing process. He reached for the final piece with considerable difficulty.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"I will be soon enough," Jack said, "Thanks."

"No, thank _you_ for the rescue," corrected Bruce, "So, do you know the way out of here?"

"Yeah," Steve said weakly and pointed, "It's right through…"

Almost at the exact moment when Steve said "through", the door near them burst open, and the soldiers behind it opened fire without asking any questions. Steve put his shield up, and Jack sprang to his feet, the two pieces of his staff in his hands. Steve felt a couple of bullets hitting his shield, but the rest never even made it to him or Bruce. Jack's body jerked a few times, and Steve heard a gasp, but that was nothing compared to the surprised gasps of the soldiers when some of their bullets seemed to either disappear or just decide to stop moving in mid-air. Steve wasn't sure how exactly it looked like to people who didn't see the winter spirit, but he didn't stay to ask. Instead, he flung his shield to the soldiers, downing almost all of them in one sweeping throw. Steve was running before the shield started to arch back, and he grabbed Jack's arm and turned him around. The boy looked terrible, but was on his feet. It was something, at least.

"GO! Now!" Steve shouted, his military instincts kicking in full force. His shield was back in his hand almost as an afterthought. He completely ignored how terrible he was feeling. Now wasn't the time for that. They flew to the other hallway – metaphorically even for Jack, oddly enough – with Steve keeping up the rear and Bruce struggling to stay in human form. Steve had no doubt the Hulk could have taken the soldiers down, but right now Bruce had two badly injured allies to take care of, and Steve doubted Bruce wanted to lose control in that situation any more than he had to. Jack ran rather unsteadily past them both to lead them towards the exit, and Steve hoped with all his might that there were no more soldiers waiting for them ahead. He had pushed his pain and nausea aside for now, but if he stopped even for a second to fight, he knew it would probably come rushing back to him. And Jack seemed to be running on pure adrenaline – or some spirit equivalent of it – as well. Steve was sure the kid had been shot at least three times, even though he hadn't taken the time to look for the bullet wounds. Bruce was right: they'd all have some serious patching up to do once they got out.

They burst out of the door, and the fresh air felt wonderful in Steve's lungs. Even if the freshness was debatable, what with the subtle stench of industrial fumes and… nuclear fallout?

"Where's the green guy?" asked Bruce, his shoulders tense. His eyes were sweeping the scorched earth and the sickly-looking environment. Jack stepped forward, still limping.

"Sandy?" he called out, "SANDY?!"

Steve looked around as well. There was no sign of the Sandman. Or the Radioactive Man either. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign. On a battlefield, it could be either one. Or both.

"He can handle himself, right?" he asked, "Wasn't he supposed to be the strongest out of you people?"

Jack spun around, his face ashen and skin looking paper thin.

"Yeah, he is," he said in obvious distress, "But I'm not going to just leave him! We don't know what that other green guy can do! And he- oh, crap."

Gunshots echoed from the door of the bunker. Steve grabbed both Jack and Bruce's shoulders.

"We can't stay here. Let's stun these guys as quickly as we can and then hope the backup gets here soon."

"Got it," Jack said and raised his hand. A chunk of ice shot at one of the soldiers' head, and the man went down. Jack grimaced in pain again, and when he stepped back, his legs almost failed him. Steve forced himself to forget about his own injuries and raised his shield. He barrelled into the soldiers, kicking, punching, throwing, and dodging until he thought he would collapse. There were a lot of soldiers, around him. Not an impossible amount, but with the beating and especially the radiation damage he had already taken, it started to feel a bit too much.

The pickup had better be here soon.

He blocked yet another bullet and hated how sloppy his movements felt like. True, he could still keep up with the best of the soldiers, but for how long? An ice block hit a soldier, and the man staggered. He fired blindly, and Steve moved in to intercept the shot and then prepared to throw his shield again. The soldier went down, however, before he could do it.

The man had been hit in the shoulder by what looked like… the Iron Man's repulsor ray?

Steve glanced up as quickly as he could, and saw a lonely Iron Man suit hovering nearby.

_"__Need any help?" _asked a slightly distorted voice that didn't sound quite like Stark. It was definitely an empty suit. Behind it was a speeding swarm of what looked like metallic birds from a distance, but turned more and more humanoid the closer they came. Tony's Iron Man army.

The soldiers started firing upwards, but there weren't nearly enough of them left to withstand the robot army. Steve had heard of Tony's plans for a whole new division of automated Iron Man suits, but he hadn't seen it in action before. And while this group wasn't big enough to be considered an actual division, it was still impressive.

"Captain, come on!"

Bruce was calling for him. Steve tossed his shield at a soldier who was still trying to get up and turned just in time to see a weary Bruce supporting an even wearier Jack, who was looking around frantically as a helicopter came to view from the distance and lowered a ladder behind them. One of the Iron Man suits raised his hand in a slightly smug greeting.

_"__Since you got the Hulk free, then you'd probably best make sure he stays that way. We'll take it from here."_

Leave it to Stark to make even his robots sound a bit smug. Steve reluctantly backed away from the fight when the last of the soldiers started going down. He grabbed the helicopter's ladder with one arm, the other still shielding himself and hopefully others from the last desperate bullets that were fired from the ground level. He heard Jack protesting, and Bruce trying to calm him down.

"Sandy's still down there! Let me go!"

"We can't help him by rushing blindly into some very hostile-looking territory. Not in your condition, especially."

"I'm _fine_!"

"Don't make me get angry at you."

"Don't make _me _throw another happy snowball at you!"

"Could you keep it down? The agents are looking at me oddly."

A pair of arms grabbed Steve and helped him up. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he didn't recognise looked questioningly at him, and Steve smiled a bit weakly at him.

"Good timing," he said, "Most of the soldiers inside followed us all the way out."

The agent nodded.

"We sent a couple of men down to fight alongside the suits. They'll sweep the place down. Anything we should be aware of?"

"There's an Asgardian in the base. He's unconscious, but be careful."

"Got it. Are you okay?"

"We need some patching up, but otherwise, we're fine."

"Okay, wait here a second and we'll get everything ready in the med bay.

The agent left him, and Steve sat down on the metallic floor. He let out a deep breath. Now that the fight was over, the nausea and exhaustion came back again. He looked around and spotted Bruce sitting in a corner with his eyes closed and hands over his ears, clearly trying to desperately reach his personal happy place. Jack was still a bit agitated, but had calmed down a bit and was looking towards the ceiling with a smile on his face. A smile that looked a bit alarming thanks to the blood on his teeth.

"Man, am I glad to see you, girls!"

Wait, what? Steve followed Jack's gaze and saw a couple of tiny tooth fairies hovering near the ceiling. Again one of the fairies fluttered to Jack's side, but this time it was carrying something. Jack quickly took it and pocketed it.

"Thanks, Baby Tooth. Is everything okay out there?"

The little fairy named Baby Tooth chirped a few times. Jack nodded, and Steve was starting to feel really left out of the conversation.

"What's she saying?" he asked.

"She said that something's probably going to go down soon, but at the moment things are relatively calm."

Jack looked at the fairies worriedly.

"Hey, can you scout the area and try to find Sandy? But be super careful; there's some radioactive guy fighting him."

Baby Tooth let out a worried tweet. Jack frowned.

"Yeah. It's pretty bad. I want you to inform the other Guardians too. Maybe they can send help."

Steve watched the fairies leave until only the one named Baby Tooth remained. Jack let out a tired chuckle.

"Okay, fine. I guess I can't make you leave now."

Baby Tooth chirped.

"Thanks for worrying."

It was an oddly heart-warming and calming scene, watching the little fairy and the icy boy exchange friendly words. It made Steve realise how much they really needed a little break. A big part of him wanted back into the action, to make sure no one got needlessly hurt. But he had to admit that this all had taken more of a toll on them than they had expected. So when the medical personnel came back, he let them escort him and Bruce to the med bay. Jack Frost was left behind, invisible to the rest of the people there. Steve promised himself that he would make sure the kid was alright as soon as he wasn't surrounded by fussing agents anymore.

* * *

Jack tried to squeeze into a corner where he was as little on anyone's way as possible. Not that anyone minded the invisible, intangible person in their midst, but _he _minded being walked through, thank you very much. And he wanted a peaceful place where to just calm down, fix his staff, and clear his head. After a few people had barged through him and left him feeling awfully empty, he had finally found a place where he could sit down and take a deep breath. The first thing to take care of was the staff. It was still in two pieces, and still hurt like a knife in his spinal cord. Baby Tooth fluttered next to his ear and chirped sadly when Jack fitted the final pieces together.

"I know, I know," he sighed, "I should be more careful with this. Although in my defence, being more careful would mean surgically attaching it to my hand or something."

Baby Tooth made a slightly disgusted face. Jack grinned at her.

"Relax, I'm not actually considering it. Hold on just a sec, I got this."

He focused, and felt the familiar strain accompanied with the familiar relief when his pain was finally soothed. The staff was whole again, and so was he. He slumped against the wall, and Baby Tooth landed on his knee. She pointed at her face and then at Jack and let out a series of worried little sounds that Jack's tired mind couldn't make sense of. He settled for petting her head.

"This is quite a mess we've cooked up, right?" Jack said, and Baby Tooth nodded sadly, "I can't wait for it to get sorted out."

He sighed.

"Well, I'll bet we're going towards the sorting out part at least."

Baby Tooth pointed downwards, reminding Jack that there was probably a crisis brewing down at the surface as they spoke.

"Yeah, I know. But there's not much we can do about it until we get out of this thing. I'll make sure these guys will be okay, and then we can go. Sound good?"

Baby Tooth let out an affirmative chirp, and Jack smiled again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tooth box Baby Tooth had brought him.

"Thanks for this," he said again, "I know this isn't the time, but you guys were already told to rummage through the boxes for that Taskmaster-guy, so what the heck, right?"

He let his finger trace the intricate patterns carved in the metallic cylinder, and smiled at the grinning picture of a young, brown-haired boy. Tony Stark obviously wouldn't stop bothering him until he could get some sort of an answer to this whole dying and waking up -thing. Jack wasn't a fan of the idea of purposefully recalling his death again. In fact, on the list of things he really didn't want to do, it ranked right below throwing his staff into a Midsummer's bonfire. But on the other hand, it would be amazing to throw some sort of satisfying answer in Tony's face. One that would make him stop harassing him about this, no less.

As Jack pressed his hand on the tooth box and concentrated, he tried to silence the voice of reason in his head that reminded him that there was no guarantee that he would get any answers out of his own past.

He closed his eyes.

And fell into the dark.

_Cold._

_Dark._

_Water._

_Falling._

_He's down there. I can't be too late._

_I_

_have_

_to_

_help_

_him…_

Jack gasped and hit his head painfully against the wall behind him.

_What was _that_?_

A memory? A bad one. Saving… he was saving someone. He had saved many people in his time, and he had also failed to save many. Which one had that been? It didn't feel very familiar to him. And it wasn't even what he'd wanted to see. He'd wanted to… well, he hadn't _wanted _to, but he had kind of tried to see the time when he'd drowned. He looked up at Baby Tooth, a question on his face.

"What was that?" he asked.

Baby Tooth shrugged her tiny shoulders and gave him a look that clearly said: _Are you kidding me? I can't see what's in your head._

Jack shook the tooth box gently. The pieces of his skull rattled within. He tried remembering again, but this time there was only blackness. And cold. And then…nothing. He coughed as if he was drowning and then jumped to his feet.

"Well, it was worth a shot," he said and tried to hide the trembling of his voice, "Come on, Baby Tooth, let's go see how the others are doing."

* * *

Steve breathed in deeply, still feeling unsure about how well he could keep his lunch in. Or dinner. Or… when _was _the last time he had eaten anyway? Probably almost twelve hours ago. Nothing too bad; he'd been through way worse. And God, just thinking about food made him feel even more awful. So he sat back on the uncomfortable bed he was told to stay in and turned his head to look at the bed next to him, which according to security cameras was empty, but which really had for the last few minutes been occupied by a very weary-looking boy. No one had spared a second or even a first glance to Jack Frost after they had got on board their escape copter. Jack had tried to weave through the group of people who had been quick to usher both Steve and Bruce for a check-up, but Steve had seen at least two people unwittingly walk right through the kid like he wasn't even there. It looked unnerving, and judging by the look on the boy's face, it felt unnerving too. Now the medical staff had left Steve alone for a while, so he could actually offer some sympathy and concern to the kid who still looked half dead.

"Hey, Jack? Are you okay?"

Jack was holding his staff on his lap, and Steve could see frost curling around it. The last piece had been attached again, and the staff looked good as new – or old, since it had looked pretty ancient to begin with. Jack looked up from his weapon and managed a tired smile.

"Me? I'm right as rain. Well, except I'm not too fond of rain. But yeah, I'm fine. How about you? How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm about to throw up everything I've ever eaten in my life. Otherwise, just fine. Wait…"

Steve stared, trying to form coherent thoughts in his radiation-muddled brain. He noticed something that he hadn't noticed before.

"Is that a _bullet hole _in your _face_?"

A small, possibly affirmative, tweet was heard from the pocket of Jack's hoodie. It sounded like one of the fairies. Jack lifted a hand to brush at his cheek, where a slightly blackened, round hole stood out horribly against the pale skin.

"Oh? I guess it is. I was kind of too preoccupied by my staff to even notice…" he pressed his finger tighter against the wound, wincing a bit, "Yep, they _definitely_ shot me a couple of times. Hold on."

He closed his eyes, and slowly pulled his fingers away from the bullet hole. Steve watched as a thin, lumpy trail of ice grew out of the wound, reddish black from what was probably blood. Inside the ice, a bullet was encased. Jack curled his hand around the bullet and broke it off, and the rest of the ice shattered into tiny sparkles that disappeared into the air. Steve had seen a lot of disgusting things in his life, and that was probably what kept his stomach from doing any extra flips while watching the strange bullet extraction.

"Wow, that's… a bit gross."

Jack grinned, and the bullet hole on his face knitted closed with bluish, shimmering stitches that vanished like melting snow.

"Would you rather have watched me dig it out with my bare hands?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure there's stuff here in the _medical bay _you could've used."

"Oh, right. Well, do I look like a surgeon to you?" Jack spread his arms, and Steve noticed the other bullet holes that marred the boy's hoodie – and no, he didn't look like a surgeon at all, "You don't look like you'd do any better either. You're almost cross-eyed right now."

Steve sighed. The kid was right. And the rest of the copter's team still had no idea there was an immortal child in their med bay.

"Okay, fine. Just… fish the rest of those bullets out too, would you?"

"Gladly. I'm not too fond of them either."

"I'm sure. How are you _really_?" Steve asked when the rest of the bullets clinked onto a medical table near his bed. Jack pulled at the hoodie he had rolled up for his very unprofessional surgery and dragged it back down. Steve could have counted the boy's ribs. He was so painfully thin, "The Executioner did a number on you."

"I told you a million times: I'm fine," Jack said, now pressing his cold hand against his black eye, and the already considerably healed swelling started to instantly go down, "You should be more worried about yourself. I've gathered that radiation is pretty bad for people. Even super-serumed ones."

"I'll live," Steve said, "What's with the staff and you?"

Jack's hand tightened around the staff, and the boy pulled it closer to himself probably without even realising it.

"Magic bonds," he finally said, "It's mostly a conduit. It breaking isn't very fun for me, though."

He said the last part reluctantly. Steve remembered the screams that had pierced even the haze of near-unconsciousness back in the base.

"How bad?" he asked.

Jack shrugged.

"Like having all my bones broken, except it's all in my soul. But hey, I'm back on my feet now. No cracks. Unlike you. I'll ask the Guardians if they have anything for radiation poisoning once I see them again."

"When's that going to be?"

"Soon. We were supposed to report back as soon as Bruce was with you guys. Now that you're better, I won't feel too bad for leaving you when I go look for Sandy."

Jack fell silent, his fingers restlessly tugging at his hood. Steve couldn't blame the boy for worrying about his friend. That green man was really bad news.

"He'll be fine," Steve said, hoping it sounded reassuring, "We'll all be fine."

He looked at Bruce, who had only received a few bumps and bruises during all this madness. He had fallen into what seemed like a deep sleep soon after the medical personnel had been done with him. Steve couldn't blame him either. Steve could really use some sleep too. Though he probably couldn't relax enough for that with all this going on around them. Maybe he'd try anyway. Staying up worrying during chaotic times was madness if there was a chance to get actually some rest.

A bump near the door of the med bay made Steve look up. His thoughts were interrupted almost at once.

"What the-?"

At the door stood a man whom Steve recognised after a moment of thinking as the assassin that Natasha had caught some time ago.

* * *

**Author's Note: These people can't catch a break, apparently. But hey, this is based on a mainstream superhero franchise so… it's probably required by some sort of laws. Anyway, this took a long time to get out, because some of the scenes just were really difficult for me. About a half of this was again just setting up scenes I really want to write, and a half of it actually writing the things that come naturally to me. Plus I had some really time- and brain-consuming work for school, but I finally got this sorted out! Oh, the joy! Well, for me, for you… that depends on whether you liked this or not, I guess.**

**Maybe we'll get to the other characters again in the next chapter? Jack, stop stealing all the screen time! Although he probably doesn't want all this attention when a lot of it is him getting the crap beaten out of him.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Flute girl: Aww, thanks! And oh no, please don't die! I hope this update is enough to keep you alive for a while. :P**

**RAVEN: Yay, I'm glad you like it! But don't explode too much. Explosions aren't very healthy, I hear.**

**Crossover Junkie: Kids really can handle a lot of dark stuff. Of course the content needs to be appropriate (e.g. not super gory or disturbing or pornographic) for kids, but some adults are indeed underestimating children. Talking about death and sadness and scary things are important parts of growing up, and kids should feel like these are things that are allowed to be talked about.**

**Mala: I LOVED the Jack Frost picture book. I pre-ordered it (and yes, the thought of pre-ordering a physical copy of a children's picture book does make me feel amazingly weird in the best kind of way) actually, and the art in it is just so amazing and lovely and gah! I love it. The scenery! The colours! The lighting! The SPIRALS! And the story is pretty sweet too, even if Joyce does mess up his own canon. Or possibly he just retcons some things, or then the picture books are yet another different universe from the novels because it kind of sounds like Nightlight became Jack Frost before the events of the novels ever happened, which makes no sense. Well, we'll just have to wait for the next book to see what happens in it.**

**Chiara Dello: Yup! They sure are arguing. It's actually too easy for me to get those two butting heads. It's also fun. Mwahahahaahaaaa!**


	12. Attack

**12\. Attack**

The Baron turned a shiny pistol over and over in his hands. This was it. It was finally finished. And if his plans had gone even slightly as they should have – despite the occasionally baffling mistakes his new associates had made – the worst obstacles in his way would be at least temporarily eliminated. That was all he needed for his chance. For his revenge. And now, with his newest invention in his hands, he would be appropriately unstoppable.

A distortion in space alerted him, and he briefly tightened his grip on the gun's handle. The broad-shouldered form of Thor Odinson materialised in front of him. He almost pulled the trigger before he realised that the Enchantress was standing next to the Asgardian, arms raised.

"Worry not," she said and smiled smugly, "I promised I would take care of him, and I have. He can aid us, and after that, I will make sure he will never bother you again."

The Baron narrowed his eyes. He had done his homework on the Enchantress before and after recruiting her. There wasn't much information to go on, but he had quickly concluded that she was an expert with Asgardian magic, including advanced mind control. The slightly empty and partially amorous look on Thor's face supported his theory that she had used exactly that to get him.

"Really?" he asked, "Are you sure this… magic of yours is sufficient to keep him obedient?"

"Of course," the Enchantress said, "Now, where is Skurge? I need to… speak with him."

"He's not here," said a voice from the shadows, and the Boogeyman walked out of a corner that the Baron could swear had been empty a second ago, "He's still watching the Hulk with that walking reactor. Though it seems that didn't work out so well."

The Baron sighed.

"That doesn't matter. We have most of the Avengers and the Guardians out of the way. And my Disintegrator is finished. We can attack now."

"Oh, that thing," the Boogeyman said in an unimpressed tone, "So… what does it do exactly?"

To answer the question – and because he felt like he had earned his moment of slight flaunting – the Baron aimed the gun at the nearest chair and pulled the trigger. A light flashed, and the chair shattered into atoms. The Enchantress raised a delicate eyebrow.

"It vanished," she said.

"Disintegrated," the Baron corrected, "With this, I can loosen the bonds between the atoms in a target. Nothing can withstand it."

"Nothing, huh?" the Boogeyman asked, "I'll take your word for it. So, you want to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. with that?"

The Baron nodded.

"Yes," he said, "My small army of hired guns are ready, and I am ready, thanks to your aid, especially _Fraulein_ Amora's retrieval of the mineral I used to finish my gun. No one will stand in the way of my revenge. HYDRA will pay for what they did to me, and hiding inside that bunch of _protectors _isn't going to help them now."

He turned to look at the Enchantress.

"Now, how large a group can you teleport at once?"

The Enchantress smiled poisonously.

"Large enough.

Behind her, Thor Odinson's fingers twitched.

* * *

In the midst of confusion it was easy for even a group of soldiers appearing from thin air to go unnoticed for a crucial while. They walked into positions around the bunker they had pinpointed as a place where the top leaders of S.H.I.E.L.D. were in at the moment. The Enchantress appeared with the soldiers and then disappeared, subtly silencing security cameras as they got closer. This bunker was located in a smaller town farther away from the heart of things, near a small secretly S.H.I.E.L.D.-operated airport so that the occasional air traffic to and from the bunker would go unnoticed. Some civilian casualties would be inevitable. That was of no concern, though. The Enchantress glanced at Thor, who marched next to her with glassy eyes. Amora smiled. If she could make Thor fight for her, she could make him love her too. His true desires were still hidden beneath the veil Amora had created, but she would shape them to what they were supposed to be soon enough.

And before that, she could show these pathetic Earthlings what true power was like.

The people in the bunker wouldn't even know what hit them.

That was what Amora thought, anyway, but about fifteen minutes ahead of her, another very persistent woman had reached the bunker.

* * *

Fury looked critically at the tall woman in front of him. And he sensed that so did Stark and the remaining Guardians. The dark-haired woman looked like a mix between an old-fashioned queen and a New Age -hippie, and there was almost literally a storm in her eyes. Not the most unusual appearance for a Guardian-like being, really. In fact, she was quite in keeping with the image media had liked to paint about her.

"Okay, Mother Nature," Fury said and sighed, "So an attack is coming. How can you be so sure it's going to hit now?"

Mother Nature crossed her arms.

"I have been watching these people. And I know you have been too. You have been watching me as well. Fear not, I don't take part in the squabbles of mortals… not usually anyway."

She tilted her head towards the open computer screens in the room.

"These won't show them until it is too late. They will appear with Asgardian magic, and they have clearly already drawn many of your best people out of here."

"We can get our people back soon enough," said North, "Bunny was with Miss Romanoff and Mr. Barton, yes? He can bring them back too."

"So you believe what she's saying is accurate?" Fury asked.

Mother Nature frowned.

"I would not be here for nothing, Mr. Fury."

"Is true. Emily Jane takes things like this seriously," said North with an amiable smile.

"Don't get too friendly with me, Nicholas," said Mother Nature, "I just want the Asgardians out before they turn this into a warzone again. And I want all the people intent on turning this into an even more of a warzone also detained."

"Will you help us, then?" asked the Tooth Fairy, "To fight?"

Mother Nature sighed.

"If I must," she said.

"Even if Pitch shows up?"

Something akin to rage flashed in Mother Nature's eyes. A computer short-circuited near her. Stark cursed.

"This is why elementals are so damn annoying," he muttered.

"You should know where I stand in this war of yours, Toothiana," Mother Nature snapped at the Tooth Fairy. Then her rigid posture slumped just a bit, "I told you I would help you. So I will.

The Guardians nodded approvingly. Fury knew he was missing some pieces of information, but that couldn't be helped right now. The Guardians clearly weren't going to share them, and they had bigger problems to worry about.

"Stark!" he said, "Suit up! You're going to the field."

"But I…" Stark sighed theatrically, "Oh no, I guess I have to break my promise, then. But just because we're understaffed right now, you got that?"

Behind them, one of the small fairies zipped in and started giving some kind of a report in what sounded like a mix of chirping and Morse code. The Tooth Fairy's face fell.

"What is it?" asked North.

"The girls can't find Sandy anymore," she said, "He was fighting some kind of… radioactive man. And Mr. Rogers and Mr. Banner are stuck in a helicopter. Jack's with them."

Fury basically stabbed his communicator to life with his index finger.

"I'll call my people and get them here. And you!" he looked pointedly at the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, "Find _your_ people!"

The Tooth Fairy was gone in a flash of a snowglobe portal and left a few feathers behind. Mother Nature looked at the organised chaos brewing around her with a hard look on her face.

"They will be here soon," she said and sounded about as ominous as a thundercloud, "Get ready."

Fury made a mental note to tell Stark to keep an eye on the mysterious woman during the upcoming fight. There was something very off about her.

* * *

The Taskmaster had made his way methodically through the back of the helicopter, incapacitating personnel that got into his way with brief and efficient strangleholds that would keep them unconscious for a while. He had thought of just jumping down at the Baron's secret extra HQ, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents had swarmed the place after getting their rescue mission done with. The copter hadn't even touched down. Still, the Taskmaster wasn't worried. He still had plenty of time to work out his escape. He had a parachute and he could jump down anywhere appropriately inconspicuous. And the copter was deliberately staying clear of the more inhabited areas, so there was no problem with the inconspicuous part. It was time to get out now, when everyone else was distracted or unconscious.

There were no problems so far, and of course he had to think that just as he came face to face with a blond super soldier. The Taskmaster forced himself to remain calm. He had stayed back during the rescue because Captain America had seen him at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base and could potentially I.D. him. He inched his way towards his goal: an emergency exit that would get him out of here. He steeled himself and got ready to look as normal as possible in his stolen uniform. The Taskmaster greeted Captain America with a nod and then proceeded to walk past him, hoping the Captain wouldn't pay him more attention.

Captain America's eyes sparked with recognition. Shit.

"Wait," he said, stepping forth with slight difficulty – something the Taskmaster filed as a possible advantage for him if the situation got out of hand, "I know you. You're the guy that shot Stark."

The Taskmaster heard a sharp gasp from the side, and glanced there. He hoped with all his might that the man who could turn into the Hulk wasn't there with the Captain. He wasn't, thankfully enough. Instead there stood a teenager. He was a peculiar one, the Taskmaster noted. The kid's hair was white and his clothes were coated with a layer of frost. A curved staff was in the boy's grip, and there was just something in general _off _about him. The Taskmaster put two and two together quickly in his head. The kid was probably one of the Guardians. The Asgardian woman had talked about some kind of ice spirit who took the form of a child, hadn't she? He hoped his memory served him correctly. And it most likely did. Tactical information was one of the priorities he had trained himself to keep in his head even when things like his original home address eluded him. The Taskmaster immediately let his gaze wander around the room as if he hadn't seen the kid at all. These Guardians seemed to rely on their selective invisibility. The kid probably expected him not to know he was there.

"I don't know what ya're talking about," the Taskmaster said, turning to Captain America again. As he talked, he positioned himself as close to his best escape route as he dared without rousing suspicion. He also went through what he knew about the people in the room. The Hulk should not be alerted, for sure. So far the man seemed to stay in the med bay and was most likely asleep. Captain America he had watched on old and new videos, and he could presumably predict everything the man could throw at him. The man's famous vibranium shield was there in his hand. That had to be watched out for. The ice kid… Jack Frost? Yes, that was his name; that made sense. The kid he hadn't heard much about, but the Asgardian woman had listed some of his powers. Namely the control over ice and snow – of course – and flight. The Taskmaster took note of the hallway's layout again just in case.

"I know it's you," Captain America insisted, "How did you get here?"

The Taskmaster decided to stop the pretence. Captain America wasn't stupid and wouldn't fall for the innocent act.

"I escaped, of course," he said, "And now, I'm escaping this helicopter."

Captain America was charging in a millisecond, but the Taskmaster was ready for him. The Captain feinted to the left and then struck, closing in for a good grapple. Easy enough to avoid. The Taskmaster danced to the side, threw a punch that was easily dodged and then followed with a kick the Captain didn't quite see coming in time. It hit the man in the shin, but it wasn't enough to bring down a super soldier. It did slow the already worn out man down enough, and the Taskmaster used that opportunity to step back near the ice kid, who had prepared his wooden stick for an attack. He ducked under the kid's projectile, which looked like a frozen snowball, trying to make the dodge look like an accident, and he moved forward without missing a beat, aiming a punch at Captain America's throat. The man blocked it, ready to grab the attacking hand, but the Taskmaster was moving again, drawing a hidden knife that was apparently mandatory in any S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. The Captain ducked to avoid the knife, and that gave the Taskmaster time to dodge another shard of ice and snow, and backpedal until he was right next to the Frost kid.

"C'mon, stay still," the kid said quietly, not expecting to be heard.

It was almost a shame to shatter the illusion of not knowing. The Taskmaster turned in the blink of an eye and grabbed the kid's right hand, which was closed around the staff. Jack Frost gasped again, and the Taskmaster used the momentary surprise to spin the staff around and behind the boy's back, kicking him away before the freezing skin of the boy could cause permanent damage to his tissues.

Frost collided with the Captain, but spun around without really losing his balance. But the Taskmaster was already moving. He raised his gun, fired once at Frost, and twice at the Captain, and then darted to the emergency exit. He twisted the door open with a couple of tricks he'd memorised some time ago, glanced down, saw that they were above a forest, and jumped.

* * *

The Baron's men made their way through the shadows of the buildings around them. They kept appearing and appearing as the woman in green dropped them off. The shadows seemed especially thick wherever the men needed them. They didn't know why that was the case, but they were glad for the advantage. Their goal was simple: get into the bunker, cover for the Baron while he demonstrated his power and got his revenge. And be cannon fodder, though that task wasn't listed in the official contract. A lot of the soldiers were starting to get a sinking feeling that that was the case, though. They were getting nervous. At least the shadows were there, comforting and protecting them.

Or at least until a light cut through them and stunned three soldiers at once.

"Man, it feels way too good to be back," said the Iron Man.

The soldiers were trained enough to immediately open fire on the hovering danger.

Inside his suit, Tony Stark grinned.

"Aaand here come the welcoming fireworks."

Tony spun in the air and fired a few more repulsor rays from his palms. The soldiers went down easily enough.

"Huh, you guys do have some real challenge with you, right?"

There were some things that Tony should have already learned about life. Or at least about his life. And one of them was that tempting fate was not the best idea to do in a battle. Because as soon as Tony had got the words out of his mouth, a bolt of lightning struck him and surged through his suit, powering it up but also sending him backwards with its force.

"What the-"

He looked to the side just in time to see Thor coming at him, his hammer raised.

"Oh, shit."

* * *

Jack Frost had always loved falling. He loved the freedom of it. He loved the sensation of his stomach not quite keeping up and the wind on his face that assured him that he would be fine. He loved waiting until he was too close to the ground before letting the wind right his course and take him back to the skies. It was wonderful. In the right circumstances, of course.

Falling with an escaped assassin clinging to him was in the "not fun" -category. But Jack had got himself into it all by jumping after the escaping man before anyone could protest. He had sped up with the wind, catching the falling man and ending up in a scuffle in the sky, with clouds tearing to pieces around them as they fell in a tangle of punches, kicks and wrestling manoeuvres. In the end the Taskmaster pushed him off, but Jack grabbed the man's wrist and ended up being pulled down with the man's weight. He felt Baby Tooth curling up in the pocket of his hoodie, hanging on for dear life. The man had eased himself into some kind of proper freefall position, but Jack was tumbling in the air like a stray leaf, not that it was a problem. A fall like this wouldn't kill Jack, but it did make him angry. The whole situation made him angry, actually. Jack hoped that Steve would be alright. He had seen at least one of the bullets hit him, and the man was still weakened from the radiation. The super soldier serum would help him through it, right? Jack had to believe in that, because right now there wasn't much he could do until he could get the Taskmaster to land and catch the man before he slipped off their radar.

Not that it should be much of a problem now. Jack felt a mischievous grin on his face. Air was his element. The Taskmaster stood no chance.

He called for the wind, and it took him along immediately. The Taskmaster tensed when they were both suddenly tugged off course and flew uncontrollably downwards towards the forest below them. Jack smirked at the Taskmaster's barely masked surprise.

"So…" he said loudly over the roaring wind, "This was your plan? Jumping from a plane? I mean, how were you planning on getting down without any of the heroes up there messing up your fancy parachute landing?"

The Taskmaster glanced up at him, still properly focused on falling with style even though said style had been thoroughly cramped.

"What are you gonna do, kid?" he said in a mocking tone, "Drop me? Cut up my parachute? Turn me into a human popsicle?"

"Don't tempt me. I could do all those things, and more."

"But ya're not gonna. 'Cause ya're a nice kid, deep down."

Jack let go of the man's wrist suddenly, giving the man's arm a hard tug as he did. The wind dropped the man, and it took the assassin several hundred meters to right himself somewhat again. Jack kept up with the falling man, his staff held lazily across his shoulders.

"Actually, I'm kind of not."

There was a brief flash of worry on the Taskmaster's face, but then it was gone again. He was back in control, or at least he thought he was. He still had plenty of time to open his parachute and land safely, and then…

"Even if you did get down, then what?" Jack asked, "Now you've got me to deal with! And believe me, I can be very persistent."

The Taskmaster didn't answer, and Jack knew it was because the man was still pretty sure that Jack wouldn't be mean enough to actually seriously hurt him. And he was… kind of right. They were falling from a lethal height, and if anything went wrong, Jack would end up with a Taskmaster pancake on his conscience.

Jack glanced down. The forest was closer now, and soon the Taskmaster had to open his parachute in order to land safely. That was how it worked, right? Jack had never tried it, seeing how he could get the same experience and more with just being himself.

The Taskmaster did pull some string and suddenly Jack was pushed backwards with a mass of expanding cloth. He lost control for a few seconds, almost falling without grace, and…

_Falling. Falling. Falling._

_Alone. Cold. Too cold. Where am I? Where is he? I have to… havetohelphavetohelptohelphim…_

_The ice is closing. I need to be fast._

He let out a tiny shout of surprise when the memory flashed past him. He still didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing, but he did know that the memory had a really bad timing. Right now he needed to focus on a parachute that had opened up like a flower and was now floating towards the treetops, getting caught in the branches… coming to a stop above a lake…

"Wow," Jack said out loud, "Dude, I bet that was _not _a part of your stylish escape plan."

The man dangled dozens of feet above ground, tangled in the upper branches of an ancient pine tree. Jack landed on a branch next to the man, grinning from ear to ear out of what he had to admit was partly pure schadenfreude. But just a bit. He was – despite his boasting – too nice for that for the most part. The Taskmaster gave him a cold look and then, without saying a word in response, cut the parachute free with his knife. He grabbed a branch below him. Jack raised a brow.

"Hey, man, that branch is not as strong as it-"

The branch cracked. The Taskmaster fell, and caught more branches on his way.

"-looks. Okay, I guess that's one way of getting down safely."

The Taskmaster's fall was a long one, and the pine tree was bare from halfway down, just like pine trees usually are. Jack didn't know if the Taskmaster had expected the fall to end into the water, but Jack was totally fine with the way it went down. At least the water cushioned the assassin's fall enough for him to avoid injury. And once he'd get up, well, Jack would be ready for him.

Jack landed down on the surface of the lake, an ice raft immediately forming under his feet. The Taskmaster had disappeared with a splash and was now a dark spot in the midst of ripples. Jack crossed his arms and waited. And waited. And waited. And…

"Oh, come on!" he shouted, "Stop bluffing! I can still see you! And I'm positive you can swim!"

He didn't get up. By Jack's estimation, it was already taking too long to be healthy.

"Hey! Get up! Don't think you can fool me with the drowning act!"

The surface broke, and the Taskmaster splashed frantically and with none of the grace he had shown in everything he did so far. Even when the parachute had got caught the man had clearly expected it and worked with it fine. But now there was real panic on the man's face. And once he had managed a frantic gulp of air he went back down. It was either a very convincing act, or it was actually real.

He wouldn't drown himself just to get someone off his tail, right? He was too smart for that. Jack looked at the dark spot in the water. It was slowly getting smaller, and flailing all the way.

"Oh, darn it…" he whispered, "This really isn't my day."

He ran on the water, ice under his feet, until he got to the spot right above the Taskmaster. He nudged Baby Tooth until she flew out of his pocket. She chirped nervously, but Jack cupped his hands around her to comfort them both.

"Stay here," he said, "I'll be back in a second."

Then he let her go, took a deep breath, let it out to calm himself down, and then took another.

Then he dove.

* * *

Nicholas Fury stood in the main corridor of the bunker, emergency broadcasts ringing in his ears and his good eye trained on the main doors. This was it. One of their bunkers had been compromised. That wasn't so bad, really; they had many more of them. But the town around them… that was their responsibility, especially now that a group of super-beings was hell-bent on destroying it in their wake.

Why did they always have to destroy things anyway? It was obvious they were mostly targeting S.H.I.E.L.D. Why drag the civilians into this?

These were questions that Fury had already learned to cynically answer with "Just because", or something like that and then move on to actually stopping the bastards. But they couldn't help surfacing again every once in a while.

"Get ready, everyone," he said, "Stark and the others will take care of the city. We'll keep the order here as well as we can."

The people behind him didn't really need the instructions, but it was something to confirm that they were indeed at their places.

The main doors disappeared. They weren't blown in with fireworks like Fury had perhaps expected, but with a quieter, much more unnerving display of force. Anyone could rig something to explode. To make something just vanish was considerably more difficult. The metallic covers they had arranged into the corridors felt very inadequate at the moment.

Behind the door stood a man in a purple hood. A man that Fury quickly connected to a face – or what was probably a face under the ski mask -look – in his files.

"Oh, hell," he said.

Either Baron Heinrich Zemo had a copycat, or this was him. A man who had been presumed dead since around World War Two.

Fury didn't have much time to think about this more, because he opened fire at the man as soon as he was proven to be the intruder. The bullets were stopped by a force field that seemed to come from the hands of a woman in green who stood behind the purple-hooded man. The Baron lifted his own gun and fired, and the nearest cover disintegrated into the air. The nearest unfortunate agent followed. Not even blood was left in the attack's wake.

Fury fired his gun a couple of more times, and then put his hand on his communicator.

"Everyone, retreat and regroup. Now!"

He didn't turn his back until they were all around the corner. Then they had no choice but to run. The walls around them started to crumble.

* * *

_Water._

_Everywhere._

_Cold._

_Dark._

_A bad place to die._

_He didn't deserve this._

_I have to help._

_My oath needs to be fulfilled._

_Even if I die too._

_He isn't breathing._

_I have to help him now!_

Jack's eyes snapped open, and he fought to keep oxygen in his lungs despite the painful flip his memories forced his mind to do. What was going _on_?

He could see the Taskmaster sinking heavily towards the bottom. It was dark. And maybe it was cold too. Jack didn't want to think about it too much. He concentrated on keeping the water around him unfrozen, and kicked himself into a less than graceful dive towards the dark, flailing shape. At least the man was still conscious. Jack reached out with his hand and grabbed the Taskmaster's arm…

…and was immediately pulled downwards.

He couldn't help it; panic started to push its way into his mind. He almost took a breath, but at the last second managed not to. He knew it wouldn't kill him, but it would probably make him completely lose it. The Taskmaster wrapped his arm around his neck, and Jack didn't know if the man was trying to kill him or just panicking too. He struggled, and felt the water starting to cling to his skin in jagged clumps of ice. They had to get out before he froze them both into the lake.

He forced his own coldness under their feet, forming a pillar of ice that grew towards the surface much faster than nature should have allowed. But Jack was in too much hurry to care. His lungs burned, and the Taskmaster's grip on him was loosening – both not good signs as far as their survival or sanity were concerned.

The surface broke, and the air stung Jack's face like a dozen needles. He gasped, and as soon as the Taskmaster let go of him, he slumped onto the comforting, solid ice pillar and just focused on breathing. Baby Tooth landed on his shoulder, and Jack managed a weak smile.

"Told you… I'm okay."

Mostly, anyway.

The Taskmaster coughed desperately until Jack was sure the man would hack up his lungs and then finally settled to lie limply on the ice. Jack couldn't blame him. He couldn't summon up the strength to get up either. He clutched his staff to his chest like a lifeline and tried to keep his wits about enough to convince himself that it was over and that they were in his element now. The Taskmaster moved his head, the look on his face almost vulnerable.

"Why did ya..." The Taskmaster rasped, "Why did ya help me? Ya damn near panicked in there."

Jack tried to snort, but there was still a little bit of water left up his nose, and that came out instead.

"Why wouldn't I?" he said weakly, "Besides, you panicked way more than I did."

The Taskmaster chuckled darkly.

"What makes an immortal kid terrified of water?"

Jack shrugged, slowly getting back up into a crouch.

"What makes a badass assassin terrified of it?"

"Fair enough."

"_Jack! Baby Tooth!_"

Jack looked up when he heard a familiar voice calling for him. Toothiana looked like she had flown for a long time, probably so fast she had reached supersonic speeds, and her feathers were ruffled. Despite all that she was one of the most welcome sights Jack could have imagined at the moment. She flew to the ice pillar and dragged Jack to his feet. Her hands were almost uncomfortably warm, but they grounded Jack and he was more than grateful of that.

"Tooth?" Jack said, "What are you doing here?"

Tooth looked almost livid now that she was up close. Jack noted that she had her swords strapped to her waist.

"That S.H.I.E.L.D. bunker is under attack!" Tooth said, "And the town it's in too! I was trying to find Sandy, but I couldn't… and then you were gone from the helicopter you were supposed to be in, and…"

"Tooth, breathe!"

"Oh, sorry!" Tooth gripped Jack's hands tighter, "I just… we have to go and help them! I'm so worried about them… and I was worried about _you_! At the helicopter they said you were shot and everything, and then…"

She stopped to breathe this time. Her eyes were still too wide, though.

"Sorry I made you worried," Jack said, trying to sound like his usual carefree self, "I'm okay."

"You'd better be!" Tooth snapped and then glanced at the Taskmaster, "And... you caught the assassin? Well, that's good news at least!"

The Taskmaster rose slowly, not getting far because his combat boot-covered feet were encased in ice – just because Jack had been near panic didn't mean he could get sloppy. The man looked at Tooth oddly, like she was the one who had just dragged him out of the water.

"Tooth Fairy?" he said, "It's you again."

Tooth nodded slowly.

"Hello, Mr. Taskmaster."

The Taskmaster looked down into the water, suppressing a shudder and barely keeping up his façade.

"I've been thinking…" he said slowly.

"What is it?" Tooth said, and Jack had a feeling she knew what the Taskmaster was about to say.

"If I helped ya with this fight… would ya help me remember?"

A gentle smile spread on Tooth's face.

"Of course."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm sorry! I've had an insanely long break from this! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! To be fair, I have had so much schoolwork and other work-related things that I've bordered on burnout occasionally, but even when I haven't been buried under work I've been distracted by other writing projects. I was even occasionally tempted to do Camp NaNoWriMo this month, but then decided not to be too crazy because our schoolwork isn't really even close to being done yet.**

**But yeah, anyway, I'm ****_not_**** abandoning this story. It has only about three or four chapters left anyway, and I do want to get it finished. I'm pretty sure I'll get more time and motivation to do this later this spring after our clutter of exams is done and I have more brainpower free from school-related things.**

**But yeah, the final battle is starting. I'm feeling like I'm not good at writing this but I'm still pushing on. I don't know… this story has so many moving parts that it's insane. The writing-part doesn't even take that long but just all the planning and getting these people to their places and dividing their time in the limelight… ****_that's _****the part that takes a lot of work. I don't envy writers who're in charge of massive crossovers at all right now! But I do have a lot of respect for those who can pull them off well.**

**About the chapter… uhh… well, the Baron's on the field, and he has his disintegrator gun, which really is his weapon in the comics. And the Taskmaster really had a possibly traumatic near-drowning experience in his backstory. And I can finally shift the focus from the helicopter gang to the bunker gang again! Though now they are at least all trying to be in the same place. Not sure it that's going to make things easier or more difficult.**

**As always, feedback is very appreciated! And thank you all who have stuck with me… if there's still someone out there after this long a wait.**

**REVIEW RESPONSE TIME:**

**Crossover Junkie: Yeah, Pitch's backstory is awesome and I still think that a lot of the biggest problems I had with the film would have been fixed if they had included that backstory in the film too. I also really like Toothiana's super tragic past. And I happen to also like to see characters I like getting beat up occasionally.**

**Mala: Yeah, these people need a break, buuut they're not getting it yet. Mwahahahahaaa! The reason Katherine and Ombric (and Nightlight, though he does have a slightly bigger role) don't get that much attention in this is because despite all the references to the books I make in this, this is based on the film universe, where there was no mention of them. In my fanfic universe they're either dead or disappeared in some fight long ago. They are remembered, though, and I was almost tempted to make North mention them to Tony when they talked about Guardians dying, but then decided that Tony and North aren't good enough friends so that North would be comfortable with talking about lost comrades with him.**


	13. To Kill a Legend

**WARNING: Uh... that title isn't just for show. ;)**

* * *

**13\. To Kill a Legend**

It was a good thing there was mostly uninhabited terrain near the bunker where they had found the Hulk and the awful Radioactive Man. Sandy knew he shouldn't call things awful, and normally he didn't. But as he dragged himself through what had recently been a lush – albeit artificially planted and therefore overly organised – forest that was now a wasteland filled with dying trees, he couldn't really muster up very kind thoughts. Especially when the man responsible for it all didn't seem to care in the slightest.

Sandy barely dodged yet another projectile of radiation, and felt his shoulder burn until the wound was stitched shut with sand. This had to stop. Now. The others were no doubt in trouble. Sandy had had more than enough experience with things like this to know that what had happened in that bunker wasn't going to be the end of this. Somewhere a much larger battle was brewing. Perhaps it had already begun. Sandy could only hope that it hadn't already ended with the victory of the ones who wished them and other people harm.

No. He didn't think like that. He always dreamed about the better.

But you know what they say? Dreams mean nothing if one doesn't want to actually make them reality.

Do they even say that? Sandy had got hit more than he had anticipated in this fight. Another wave of radiation wilted the last plants that had so far remained mostly untouched. Oh, Emily Jane was not going to like this. Well, hardly anyone was going to like this. Sandy definitely didn't. It was time to change tactics.

Sandy started to think of the Radioactive Man as one of his stars. The ones he had herded back in the days before he had crashed on Earth. Before he had got his job as a Guardian. Back when he had met Emily Jane. The Radioactive Man was a very stubborn, angry star, radiating death and destruction all around himself and perhaps eventually burning himself out. But Sandy wasn't going to wait and see if _that _would happen. Too many things had died already because of him. Sandy created a lasso in his hand. It had been too long since he'd had to steer angry stars to their right places.

This one wasn't just angry and stubborn, though. It was also calculating and overly curious. Also nothing new to Sandy. Stars often were curious.

The star lashed out, barrelling towards him with particles and radiation around it. It was preparing to unleash a big wave of energy. One that would kill and wash away far too much. He had to stop it. Sandy stood up, his legs shaky but still supporting him. He'd definitely need to sleep this battle off once he had time. Beams were shot at him, but he danced away, his steps less than perfect out of exhaustion and still healing injuries – the one in his chest still burned and wasn't quite fixed yet – but they were good enough. The star passed him by, and Sandy spun around. The lasso was just where it needed to be, winding around the star and yanking it back. There was a grunt, perhaps of surprise or irritation, but Sandy didn't care which. In a few swift movements he was on the star's shoulders, locking both him and the star in a bubble of dreamsand. He formed words out of the sand; gently chastising words that would most likely go unheeded, but words that needed to be said anyway:

_You can't keep doing this._

_Look at the destruction you are causing._

_You can't control and study through breaking things._

_I'd rather not fight you, but I _am_ going to stop you._

The frustrated star was hurling Chinese insults at him. Sandy rolled his eyes, braced himself for a wave of radiation that his dremasand bubble could barely keep in. It cracked and split, and Sandy struggled to keep it together. His wounds burned even harsher, and he closed his eyes tight. He felt a tug when the star started moving, dragging him towards new places it could study by destroying.

He held on, and started steering it without it even noticing.

Dozens of miles away, in the bunker the star had come from, the Executioner stirred. No one noticed it – least of all Sandy, who was very preoccupied by stars and nuclear fallout. The Executioner listened to the chatter of the agents around him, heard reports about attacks and knew the Baron had made his move. And he knew that the ones he needed to defeat in order to restore his warrior pride would be there, standing against the Baron. And most importantly, his beloved Amora would be there too. His body was shocked awake by determination and the Asgardian equivalent of adrenaline. The agents around him never saw it coming.

Once the Executioner exited the building that had become his ground of humiliation and defeat – though that was now also full of defeated agents to even things out a little, he looked around and found the surroundings deserted. He found a path of death and destruction, of burned grass and the feel of something heavy and deadly in the air. The Executioner knew who it was coming from. He started running towards the source.

* * *

Fury didn't like this at all. Their attacker seemed hell-bent on bringing their base down around them. And not just breaking it, but disintegrating it into atoms. Or that was what he assumed, at least. They didn't exactly have time for more thorough analyses right now. They just needed to keep backing away and hope to keep the casualties to a minimum while they planned their next move. Where were the Avengers? Hell, even the _Guardians _with their kid-friendly beliefs and admittedly useful abilities would be more than welcome now.

"Stark!" Fury barked into his earpiece when he saw to his disappointment that one more of his agents vanished with a pained scream, "The leader of this attack is right here. We need backup now!"

_"__Yeah, I'm working on getting there! It's just that I ran into one of our buddies who-" _there was a clang and a grunt on the line, _"-isn't our buddy right now."_

"Who? And this isn't the time for smartass comments!"

Fury shot at the approaching man, but the Baron disintegrated the bullet with rather impressive accuracy. The woman in green waved her hand and a pulse of what had to be Asgardian magic sent a group of men to the floor.

_"__It's Thor,"_ said Stark, and for a moment Fury was so focused on the fight on his end that he almost missed what Stark was saying. Then it sunk in.

"What?"

The woman in green seemed to hear it and smiled very wickedly.

"Oh, are you perhaps missing someone?" she asked.

Fury ordered his agents to back away and frowned at the woman. Why did they always have to gloat?

* * *

Tony was feeling a very strong sense of déjà vu when he watched the God of Thunder charging at him – heh, charging – with a very pissed off look on his face. Hadn't they done this back before the Avengers had been formed? Back when they'd been arguing about Loki for some arbitrary reason Tony could barely even remember. Back then it had been just a difference in opinions. This time it was clear that a) Thor wasn't quite himself and b) he was clearly out for blood. And Tony hadn't been Iron Manning for some time, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was still feeling the shot in the lung and the multiple surgeries he'd gone through recently. So the odds were not in his favour. Then again, he was Tony Stark, so turning bad odds in his favour was exactly what he was good at.

"Okay, big guy," he said, "Time for you to calm down a bit."

He shot a ray at Thor, who brushed it off with a swing of his hammer and kept coming. The more or less faceless enemy soldiers had also trained their guns at Tony again. They wouldn't be much of a problem unless they were secretly packing more heat than some measly handguns. The bullets were definitely an annoyance, though, but nothing he couldn't-

Why did the air suddenly turn unnerving?

Tony only barely dodged Thor's hammer and flew upwards. He surveyed the battlefield – and man, had it really started to look like a battlefield fast – and noticed what looked like a blob of shadow at first, but what seemed to divide into small shadow creatures, and…

"Oh, great," Tony muttered, "The Boogeyman and his army. Fantastic."

He hoped his newly installed backup power sources would be as Boogeyman-proof as he had theorised while making them. He definitely didn't need weird shadow powers short-circuiting his suit again.

He sent a quick heads-up to Fury and anyone else who might have been within radioing distance and swerved to the side to avoid Thor. He spun around in the air and fired at the man. At least he didn't need to pull his punches. The Thunder God was made of really sturdy stuff.

The shadows were swarming on the ground beneath him, going through most of the soldiers like they weren't even there. The shadows were probably here just for the Guardians. And maybe to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D.'s morale. Tony gave a few commands to his A.I, JARVIS, and turned his focus again back to Thor.

"Hey, Thor!" he shouted, "What's gotten into you? We're on the same side here… I think."

There was a certain emptiness in Thor's eyes. It wasn't like Loki's mind control, but it was maybe something similar.

"I am here to defend Lady Amora's honour," said Thor, and swung his hammer again. It brushed Tony's shoulder and sent him off-balance in the air.

"Lady who?"

Thor's only reply was yet another heavy strike that got through properly this time. Tony was sent to the ground, and he felt the impact through his suit, muffled but solid. His chest ached.

"No seriously?" he coughed out, "_Who?_"

Thor dropped down towards him, and he rolled to avoid the hammer. The slam dented the concrete under him and the shockwave sent him flying. He righted himself in the air and turned to face what had by now become an annoyingly familiar sight: a pissed off god attacking him. Thor raised his hammer, feinted to the right and struck with a surprisingly fast downward swing. Tony barely had time to dodge. Damn, why did these Asgardians have to be so friggin' _fast_? Thor roared and raised his weapon again. Something hit him in the back of the head. Something that broke into chunks of… snow?

"What," Tony said.

"Hey! Old Man Thunder!" the unmistakable carefree teenager-voice of Jack Frost rang out, "Snap out of it!"

Jack was floating in the air, and the Tooth Fairy fluttered next to him, swords in her hands. Jack grinned at Tony, all of their previous arguments apparently forgotten.

"Need any help?"

Tony sighed.

"Just… let's just get this over with."

* * *

"You are in my way."

It was the only thing the Baron had said during the fight to justify this attack in any way. It was definitely a pathetic justification. Not that Fury even cared at the moment. He just cared about the disintegrating base and the agents inside it. And he definitely cared about the innocent people not too far away from the base. They needed to do something. They needed something to breach that shield the woman was creating. Seriously, _where were the Avengers_? Fury had more than enough experience to get through even unexpected situations without help from enhanced people, but when the ones opposing them were gods and monsters, things got trickier.

"This is almost too easy," the Baron said, and the woman nodded.

"Yes… that is why we should be prepared for something-"

She didn't even have time to finish the sentence before a wave of what could only be described as aggressive weather barrelled into her and the Baron. It tore right through the woman's shield like it was made of tissue paper and threw them both into a wall. Fury shot at the Baron right away, but the man had enough incentive to duck into cover.

"WHAT was that?" the Baron bellowed.

The woman had turned around, not caring about the bullets that were flying her way. She was Asgardian, so she didn't really need to worry about tiny pieces of lead that much. Fury didn't even try to waste his own ammo on her, but instead focused on getting the drop on the Baron, who was still very dangerous with his gun. He did spare a glance at who had given them a chance to fight back. They had a couple of weather-powered people on their side at the moment, but the one who had come to their aid was the most suspicious one. Mother Nature stood at the door, robes flaring, eyes blazing. The more hostile woman in green crossed her arms.

"Oh, 'tis _you_," she said, "You have finally stepped down from your pedestal and decided to get your hands dirty."

One of the agents next to Fury leaned in to whisper:

"Who's she talking to?"

Fury shook his head curtly.

"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems right now. Leave the woman to the Avengers. Take care of the Baron."

Mother Nature looked over her shoulder when another group of soldiers reached the door.

"And those guys," Fury added, "Take care of them too."

One of his agents shivered. That was odd. His people weren't usually afraid-

_Oh, son of a bitch._

As mostly invisible, fear-spreading shadows poured in in the soldiers' wake, the two women in green broke their cold staring contest when the Asgardian one fired something from her hand. It hit Mother Nature in the arm, and she was flung backwards out of the building. The Asgardian woman followed, but was tossed aside with such ease that Fury suspected Mother Nature had let herself be blown away just to take the fight away from the base. He focused again on the soldiers and the Baron, who had recovered and was again firing his weapon that kept destroying their defences. They had to keep moving. Out of the corner of his eye, Fury saw the rather impressive form of the Santa Claus dancing between the soldiers, sometimes literally weaving through them, and meeting the group of shadows with a pair of sabres. Some of the soldiers were shot down by a sniper, and Fury would have smiled if he'd had time for it. Maybe this battle was turning around already.

One couldn't get too optimistic, though. The fight was just beginning.

* * *

When Bunnymund hopped out of his tunnel, he, Barton, and Romanoff arrived in the middle of a warzone. There were soldiers, agents, Fearlings, Avengers, and of course Guardians, all locked in very chaotic combat all around the S.H.I.E.L.D.-base and its perimeter.

"Crikey," Bunnymund said, "We definitely have some work to do."

Behind him the two agents didn't waste time getting to said work. They were shooting as soon as they were back on the surface. Bunnymund pulled out his boomerangs and scanned the battlefield for more serious threats that were yet not being dealt with. North was at the base, taking care of Fearlings. There was a fight between Mother Nature and a woman in green. And Frostbite and Stark seemed to be battling… Thor?

_Wait, that ain't right._

Bunnymund couldn't really wonder about Thor's sudden change of sides for long, because he caught a glimpse of an unmistakable shift in the shadows. He raised his boomerang.

"Ya think ya can hide? Not this time."

Pitch Black only had time to change his smirk into a look of anger before a boomerang smashed in his face.

"Nice one!"

Bunnymund glanced at Tooth, who hovered above him, swords drawn. Her mini fairies were spreading all over the battlefield, meeting Fearlings with force that would have been surprising if Bunnymund hadn't known Tooth so well after all these centuries of working together.

"Good timing, Sheila," Bunnymund said.

One of the soldiers fell near them, out cold because of a seemingly out-of-nowhere shot. At first Bunnymund thought it was Hawkeye, but there were no arrows in sight.

"Who's sniping?" he asked.

"Oh, that's the Taskmaster," Tooth said with a wave of her hand, "You know, the assassin who was after them. We negotiated a bit. He even promised to not kill anyone if he could help it!"

Bunnymund stared. Behind him, Pitch got up with a groan.

Tooth beamed.

"So, shall we dance?"

Bunnymund smirked. There was time for explanations later.

"Ya know it."

They charged at Pitch together.

* * *

It was not often that Mother Nature took to the battlefield. She preferred to keep to herself and let the people sort out their own messes. But now everything was just going too far. And the people who had started it all didn't even seem to care. So she summoned the winds and the clouds, and _fought it_.

Mother Nature and the Enchantress clashed in a whirlwind of magic and weather. The poor soldiers who got too close thought the Enchantress moving alone, with far too much chaos around her, and jumped aside the best they could. The Enchantress didn't even seem to notice, and she kept her eyes locked on Emily Jane's own. In seconds the battlefield was in the middle of a fierce storm that rose out of nowhere, or at least so it seemed. Emily Jane silently thanked the winds and then sliced her way through the Enchantress's magic with them. She couldn't even remember the last time she had lashed out with her powers like this. It was almost… refreshing.

She felt her storm also slicing into Fearlings and smiled coldly. Feeling joy for destroying Pitch's creations may have been a bit petty, but she couldn't help it. She told the winds to pay attention not to hurt Toothiana's little fairies that were battling the shadows all around them. Though she suspected that young Jackson had already made sure even her winds wouldn't touch them.

The Enchantress staggered backwards from Emily Jane's latest attack and snarled in a quite undignified manner. She vanished, and Emily Jane narrowed her eyes. The winds whispered to her, told her where The Enchantress had reappeared. Emily Jane smiled. The Asgardian woman thought she could beat her with cowardly tactics. Well, it wasn't going to work. This was _her _turf. Emily Jane let the wind take her to the woman. She was there in an instant, and dodged an abrupt magic projectile at the last moment.

The Enchantress smirked.

"Well, you are doing surprisingly well for someone with obviously no combat experience."

Emily Jane didn't answer. There really was no reason to. Thunder clouds gathered behind her. Lightning struck. The Enchantress was unimpressed – not that Emily Jane needed this woman to be impressed by her.

"Charming," she said, "But you are not the only one with thunder on her side."

Then Thor Odinson jumped at Emily Jane, hammer raised as if he had been waiting for his cue. Emily Jane spun, but was unprepared, and the hammer struck her in the shoulder. Had she been mortal, her shoulder, arm, and several ribs would have probably shattered. Now she just let the wind take her back a few feet, and she faced Mr. Odinson with rage in her eyes and mind.

"You!" she hissed, "She really got to you?"

A ray of light, and a bolt of ice struck Mr. Odinson, and the man fell to the ground into a crouch.

"Yup, she did," said Jackson, who came to a stop next to Emily Jane, "Tony and I've been trying to snap him out of it."

"We'll get him eventually," said Iron Man, and shot another ray at the man to keep him down.

The Enchantress frowned.

"Stark," she growled, and then glanced at Jackson, "And… Jokul Frosti, I presume? I have heard about you, though we have never met. You have been quite a nuisance to Asgard from time to time."

Jackson chuckled.

"Well, I don't want to brag, but…"

"And now you are ruining my plans as well," The Enchantress sighed, and then inclined her head, a seductive smile on her face, "Although, you _are_ a lot prettier than I expected."

"Uh… thanks?" Jackson frowned.

"Uhh… you do realise she's totally coming onto you, right?" said Mr. Stark.

Jackson's eyes widened.

"_What? _Eww, gross!"

"Aaaand you never went through puberty, did you?"

"Focus!" Emily Jane snapped, "Mr. Odinson is getting up again!"

This was going to be a long night. Emily Jane couldn't wait for it to end.

* * *

The Baron cursed. These Avengers and Guardians were not supposed to be here at all! Not in the moment of his revenge and triumph! He and his allies had worked for so long to get to this moment, and now it was falling apart in front of him. Sure, he had destroyed a lot of this S.H.I.E.L.D. base, and had been close to eliminating their leader and then getting to his key targets, once the people were in disarray, but then he had been pushed back. What had gone wrong? They had supposed to work on this as a team! To take down all the opposition by dividing and conquering! And now he was huddled behind some chunks of ruined street and saw his allies scattered to fight the ones he had tried to get out of the way.

He saw the Avengers, almost all of them, doing far too well against his allies. He saw the Enchantress, who was supposed to be his shield while he attacked, fighting another green-clad woman with weather powers. He saw the shadow army being beaten back by small birdlike creatures, and he saw his soldiers being shot by an unseen assassin and by the two Avengers-affiliated agents who were clearing out the battlefield with much more efficiency than normal, unenhanced humans should have been able to. It was infuriating!

The Baron clutched his beloved gun, his masterpiece, and then raised his hand. If his plan was going to be hindered like this, it wouldn't be done without a price. He pointed the Disintegrator at the bow-wielding agent's back when the man was focused on fighting an aggressive wave of shadows, and pulled the trigger.

The gun flashed.

A yell, maybe of rage or distress, cut the air at the same time with the beam. Hawkeye spun around too late to face the impact, but it never came. Something had got in the way. Looking around he realised with growing horror that it was the small, feathery body of the Tooth Fairy.

The Baron waited, holding his breath. His gun was truly a marvel of science, but could even that destroy these immortal, partly intangible beings?

* * *

Clint Barton stared at the tiny, yet majestic fairy who fluttered in front of him.

Toothiana's eyes were wide, alight with pure, unadulterated fury. She stared the Baron down, her fists clenched despite the glowing hole that was now growing in her chest.

"Tooth?" said a disbelieving voice belonging to the Santa Claus, "Toothy?"

Toothiana let out a shaky breath, and her feathers started scattering away into the wind, along with her wings, her arms, and her face. It wasn't like it had been with solid objects that had just crumbled into nothing. The Tooth Fairy fell beautifully, and terribly. Clint realised he couldn't breathe for a long moment. Santa Claus had stretched out his arms as if to catch the feathers that fell into glowing fragments, but they slipped between his fingers. The Baron's surprise and triumph were almost visible through his hood.

Before the Baron could shoot again, Clint nocked an arrow and shot, ignoring the shadows that threatened to swarm him. The arrow struck the Baron's arm, and the Baron howled, dropping his gun. Clint knew that wasn't enough. He drew again, but this time the Asgardian woman got in the way and got her force field up. Clint got into cover, where he again saw the haunting lull that had fallen on the rest of the battlefield. Nat crouched next to him, her mouth set in a tight line. Even Pitch Black had stopped fighting and stared at the display with something akin to disbelief.

It could be a trick. These Guardians could shrug off pretty much anything. Too much anything for a single shot to take them out. But this… this gun was unlike anything they had seen before. It didn't just hurt. I seemed to _unmake_. And it looked like it had even been enough to break apart a legend.

* * *

Jack felt a shudder going through him, and realised a moment later that the shudder had come from Baby Tooth, who had landed on his shoulder. She tweeted miserably, her tiny hands clutching at Jack's hood. Jack cast a look at Emily Jane and Tony, and hoped they got the message when he cast a hunk of ice to knock Thor to the nearest building, and then put distance between any of the bigger fights.

"Baby Tooth?" Jack asked urgently once they were in a relatively safe place, "What's wrong?"

Baby Tooth's eyes were wide, her shoulders trembling. She was staring upwards, and Jack looked up as well. What he saw made his blood freeze.

The army of tooth fairies that had been fighting like a miniature hurricane had frozen into a surreal, unmoving formation in the sky. Judging by the nearest ones that Jack could see properly, their faces held the same, disbelieving and pained expression as Baby Tooth's. Their weapons fell from slackened hands.

"What the…" Jack's voice caught in his throat. Something was very, very wrong. He looked around for someone who could help, and was glad to notice Bunny staring at the sky nearby, "Bunny!"

Bunny was at his side in an instant.

"I see it," he said, "This ain't good."

The tooth fairies started falling. They dropped like stones for a moment before vanishing in mid-air. Their faces twisted and then froze into horror, and they became like tiny statues for a moment right before they shattered. Jack choked on his own breath.

"No…" Bunny whispered brokenly, "Tooth…"

"What?" Jack asked in a barely audible voice and was already dreading the answer, "What's happening?"

Baby Tooth croaked, and it was such an odd noise out of her that Jack was startled. She fell from Jack's shoulder, and Jack caught her into his cupped hands. Her body had stiffened, and her eyes were blank. Jack stared at her in horror. This… this couldn't happen.

"Baby Tooth? _Baby Tooth!_"

Her heart beat sluggishly against his palms a couple of more times before it too went still.

"No!" Jack gasped, "C'mon, Baby Tooth! Stay with us! You can't! None of you can…"

Her previously warm body went cold in an instant, and then coated with frost that emanated from Jack's hands. Jack was trembling. She was so still, and so fragile. Jack could almost feel her body starting to break apart like the others had seemed to, but the solidifying water held it together.

"What just…?"

A furry paw landed on Jack's shoulder, surprisingly gentle. Jack looked at Bunny's mournful face, startled and trying to understand what was happening. Behind him, tooth fairies were still falling.

"The fairies… for them to just drop like that…" Bunny took a deep breath, "They're _connected_ to her, Frostbite."

A horrible realisation sunk in.

"No… no, no no nonono… She can't…"

His voice broke. Bunny squeezed his shoulder.

"Tooth's gone. Something… took her out."

Jack's legs felt weak, and he had to awkwardly lean to the staff he had tucked under his arm to stay standing. His vision blurred. The battle was still going on around them, but it all felt so detached. He vaguely knew that Bunny took out the last of the surrounding Fearlings with terrifying ferocity, but his own hands were still cupped around Baby Tooth's frozen body. It couldn't be true. It was a trick, or… something. Anything else. They _couldn't _die. His mind told him that Sandy had died and come back before. But now… what had happened _now_?

He looked past the Fearlings and the fights, and to the spot where he had last seen Tooth. North was standing there, along with Clint and Natasha, and the man in the purple hood was laughing from behind the Asgardian woman's force field. He had a gun… a gun that had seemed to take apart anything.

Something clicked.

Jack was running, his staff glowing a furious blue. Midway through the battlefield he jumped into the roaring wind and shot towards the man like a bullet, teeth clenched in rage.

"YOU _BASTARD_!"

The purple hood looked at him a second before a blast of ice and light slammed into the man, shattering the Asgardian woman's shield. The bastard flew through the air, landing on his back and scrambling up. He raised his gun, and Jack only vaguely realised it was probably not a good idea to stay in its range. He didn't care, though. He shot another blast, and saw the man pull the trigger.

Bunny's paw grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the way when the gun fired. Jack landed on the ground, one hand clutching his staff and one still gently around Baby Tooth. He had a moment to see a flash of red and grey before the ground opened underneath him and he was falling, travelling through one of Bunny's tunnels.

"No!" he managed to yell, "We have to stop him!"

The falling stopped abruptly, and for once Jack didn't land on his feet. He slumped on his knees and saw North stumbling to a stop next to him. North knelt next to Jack, and Jack noticed that North's cheeks were wet.

"She…" Jack swallowed, "Is she really…?"

North managed a nod.

"Yes… she… she got between Hawkeye and the gun."

_No…_

Jack cradled the frozen Baby Tooth in his hands, and tears spilled from his eyes and froze to his cheeks. A heavy, tattooed arm wrapped around Jack's shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Jack curled up in the embrace, and felt a paw in his hair, awkwardly comforting him as well.

It didn't really help now. Nothing did.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm finally back! Though considering what just happened in the fic, some of you may wish I wasn't. *dodges rotten fruit* Hey, at least I only killed ONE Guardian! I'd been planning on offing two! But hey, I've been talking about Guardian-death in this fic so much that I had to do ****_something_**** with it.**

**I should say I feel really sad, because I really like Tooth, but hey, they're Guardians so there's still a chance for her… maybe… I actually really liked writing her death scene because I wanted to make it beautiful in a creepy and haunting way. It's also a small reference to Tooth's backstory in the books, where the Sisters of Flight (her family on her mother's side) turned to statues when they realised Tooth's mother (one of them) was dead.**

**Aww, Clint! You just keep having to be saved by self-sacrificing people. I mean, if I remember correctly, that's what happened in ****_Age of Ultron _****too. But I picked you for that part, because… uh, you were there, and I kind of wanted it to be someone other than Natasha because now it kind of seems that Tooth is only really friends with her and no other Avengers. So she would have been more of an obvious choice. Too obvious, really.**

**But anyway, thank you for being so patient with me! Now I have a summer break and my working hours are very irregular so I have much more free time to dedicate to writing. I'll try to get this fic finished this summer. Keyword being "try". Though there are just a few chapters left according to my calculations. So it might be possible.**

**I hope you enjoy and maybe comment but whatever you do, thank you for reading! You guys rock!**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Mala: Yup, it's actually really cool to notice how much Nightlight there's even in film!Jack. And in some of the earlier film sketches he looked almost exactly like Nightlight, and that's interesting… Also here was some Sandy for you! I really like him too and he's super fun to write. His perspective is always so calming.**

**StarLight234: I could go on for quite some time how much schools' teaching methods could be improved to actually encourage and strengthen creativity instead of discouraging it by being mostly kind of repetitive and uninspired and only cater to a specific group of learners. Although I do a lot of drawing at school during lectures so it's possible to do creative stuff as long as the teachers at least allow it. :)**

**Jack and Tony are indeed a lot of fun to write together. They're just a back-and-forth storm of snark and I love it! Also there was some Thor vs. Jack for you, though it wasn't much. But Thor's still under mind control and now Jack is really angry so I'm sure there's still potential for a more defined fight scene. I'll see what I can do.**


	14. Family Ties

**14\. Family Ties**

Sandy felt it. The pain that came from someone close to him dying. It shocked him so much that he almost lost his grip on the Radioactive Man. He barely held on, and he knew that he had wasted too much time. And as the huge form of the Asgardian soldier barrelled through the barren woods, shouting that it was time to re-enter the real battle, Sandy agreed. He lashed out, grief making him perhaps a bit more callous than usually. He wasn't sure who had died, but he knew it had to be someone from their little mismatched family.

The Asgardian warrior tried to fight free of the dreamsand Sandy had wrapped him in, but Sandy was having none of it. He created a plane with a cage hanging from it, and sped off with two prisoners.

_I'm coming to help you, _he thought and wished – believed – that the others would hear him, _Just hold on._

* * *

Jack couldn't comprehend it. It just shouldn't happen, but it had. It was like Sandy's death all over again. Their family was broken.

She had to be alright. Or at least able to come back, right? They were the Guardians. They could get better from anything with enough belief.

_Right?_

Jack felt a nudge when Bunny withdrew his paw, but he didn't move until North stood up.

"We have to go on," North said in a broken voice, "We all know that. We can't leave Avengers alone out there."

"Yeah," said Bunny, very quietly and sounding nothing like Bunny, "That bloody bastard'll pay for what he did."

"We need strategy. Someone needs to take care of Baron."

Jack nodded against North's shoulder and then let go, sliding down from North's arms and landing on his feet. He formed more ice around Baby Tooth's body, encasing her in a clear cube that he then tucked in his pocket. She rested there against his tooth box. Jack gripped his staff tighter.

"I'll take care of the Baron. I can block his attacks with ice. You can focus on taking down the others."

"Are ya sure, Jackie?" Bunny asked, "Can ya-"

"I know what we have to do!" Jack said forcefully. Power tingled in his hands. They glowed blue, "I can focus on blocking! But that leaves me out of the offensive. You guys are gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course," said North. His expression softened again, "We have to keep going. For Tooth."

"We will," Bunny said. He tapped his foot, and a tunnel opened up, "Now that we've all calmed down, let's go and finish this."

They weren't really calm, and they all knew it. But they would definitely finish this.

The sounds of battle were still around them. Jack realised that Bunny hadn't taken them very far after all. He looked around and saw the city and what was left of the bunker. He saw the storm that was brewing above the battlefield. It was already fierce, but it was about to get worse. He'd make sure of it.

He jumped on the wind and let it take him back to the fight.

The Baron was still behind the Enchantress's force field, launching his awful disintegrating projectiles at everything he could. Most of the remaining fighters had already learned to stay out of the gun's way, at least, but it would be just a matter of time before they ran out of cover. Well, that was easy to fix. Or at least Jack hoped it was. First he needed to take care of that force field. He charged up some of the power he had already gathered in his rage and unleashed it in a barrage of blue light. It was almost too easy, really. He could still feel power tingling in his arms even after breaking through the field. The Enchantress was thrown back with a surprised grunt, and before she could put her shield back up, Emily Jane was attacking her again.

"Great timing, Emmy," Jack said under his breath, and focused on the Baron. Giant icicles shot from the ground around the hooded man, creating a prison that he disintegrated in a few shots. But before he could get back into the fight, Jack recreated the prison. The Baron broke through again, but Jack was there to raise more ice each time the man shot at something around him.

"Give up, you bastard!" Jack yelled out, "I can keep doing this all day!"

He considered making things even harder for the man by making the walls spiky, but before he could really think about it further, the Enchantress's voice rang out:

"Thor! Take care of Frosti!"

Jack created five layers of ice around the Baron and then turned his head. Old Man Thor was indeed coming at him, eyes still blank.

"Oh, come _on_! Snap out of it already!"

It didn't seem to work. Jack sighed. This _really_ wasn't the time.

* * *

Nicholas St. North felt like a failure. He was the closest thing the Guardians had to a leader who also worked on the field. He could only imagine the distress the Man in the Moon must have been feeling, looking at them from his perch in the sky, seeing yet another one of his Guardians fall. It hadn't happened many times, of course, but it was always a tragedy.

No. They couldn't give up yet.

Tooth was dead now, yes, but the Guardians had never been very good at staying dead.

He sliced through a Fearling and advanced on the battlefield towards the bigger threats. At the moment, Pitch was the only one who wasn't actively fighting someone. Good. As much as North wanted to focus on destroying the man who had killed Tooth, he knew that he still had a job to do. A purpose.

He was a Guardian. He charged at Pitch and saw Bunny following him in his peripheral vision. Pitch sighed and melted into the shadows before lashing out from the darkness.

They fought through the swarms of shadows and dodged Pitch's swinging scythe. They passed by Romanoff and Barton, who were apparently focused on killing enemy soldiers. North kind of hoped they weren't actually killing, but he had a feeling their code of honour didn't forbid it. Around them, soldiers fell to sniper bullets. There was a little bit more rage in the shots now. Not enough to make them unprofessional or anything but deadly and precise, but enough that North could almost feel the anger behind them. He lashed out at Pitch, and was rewarded with a hiss of pain when his sabre slashed a dark wound on Pitch's shoulder. It was there for a moment before it faded.

"Shouldn't you cut your losses already?" Pitch hissed, "Unlike these other guys, you don't have an expendable army to take the hits for you. You already lost your fairy friend. For all of our immortality and power, all it took was just one shot from a strange gun."

A boomerang hit him in the face for that.

"Ya don't have the _right_ to talk about Tooth!" Bunny growled.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Pitch laughed mockingly, "If you insist on staying, then perhaps I should make sure you regret every second of it."

With that, he was gone again. North and Bunny were left scanning the battlefield. Around them, the battle was still raging. So loudly that the noise of a distant helicopter was almost drowned out. North and Bunny paid the sound no heed, and instead split up to search for their enemy.

A few moments later, Steve Rogers and the Hulk dropped onto the battlefield. Some soldiers shouted several panicked swearwords at the sight of the giant green man.

* * *

Steve breathed in the heavy, hectic air of the battlefield. He smelled destruction and blood. There was a mix of chaos and organised, professional moves all around him. There were flashes and shouts and the sounds of gunfire. He was alert at once, his soldier mind scanning the battlefield for friends and foes. He quickly identified them, and from the radioed messages the helicopter had got throughout its journey, he also knew where the worst of the threats were. He raised his shield and threw it through five shadow creatures and let it hit an enemy soldier who was about to fire at the back of a S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent. Behind him, the Hulk immediately tore into his foes like a huge, enraged green jackhammer.

Steve caught his shield and let the Hulk smash his way through the enemies. He himself focused on clearing a path to the other big threats. He breathed in and let his senses take in the battlefield again.

He was home.

* * *

The Radioactive Man clawed at his sand prison, but nothing seemed to get through it. At least not for long. It was just not possible. His powers should have been more than a match for some measly sand, but this was… something he had never seen before. Next to him, the muscular Asgardian tried to punch his way through. Their prison occasionally lurched in the air from their efforts, but it stayed on its course.

Eventually Chen Lu gave up. He let his green, glowing hands rest against the ever-shifting walls of the sand bubble around them. His mind worked furiously. In a way, this was a good thing, of course. Getting close to the battlefield and their allies was just beneficial. There they had a better chance of overpowering the golden man and the possible allies he had there.

"It's no use," he said when the Executioner didn't stop trying to break through, "I'm sure we'll get free more easily if we wait for the man to land."

The Executioner punched a hole in the wall. It closed off immediately and small tendrils of sand tried to restrain his fist. He angrily shook it free.

"We have to keep trying! I am not going to be flown to Amora in a cage!"

"I'd say you have no choice. This is the best way for us to actually find our way there."

Chen Lu leaned back against the wall.

"We are both strangers in an unfamiliar terrain."

The Executioner scowled, but slowly lowered his fist. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, but Chen Lu didn't care. He closed his eyes and started working out better theories and scenarios about how they could turn this into their advantage. He let radiation gather around his hands. When the golden man's attention would falter, he would strike.

Finally they touched down, and the sand bubble dissipated. Chen Lu prepared to fire, but the golden man was faster. A ball of sand struck Chen Lu in the face, making him dizzy and sleepy. Before he had time to shake it off, the golden man had whistled to someone Chen Lu couldn't see. A moment later a green man who towered even above Chen Lu charged right at him. And this time it was clear that he wasn't going to go down with some radiation.

Chen Lu cursed in his mind. At some point all their plans had gone wrong. He really shouldn't have taken this job.

* * *

Jack somersaulted in the air to get out of the way when Thor attacked him again. The massive hammer barely passed his head, and Jack stopped only to send the Asgardian an annoyed, upside-down glare before he aimed a solid hit of the staff at Old Man's head. It didn't quite hit, but the kick Jack followed it with did. Thor's head snapped to the side, but otherwise he didn't seem to be bothered by it. He charged again.

Jack dodged and dared to cast a look at the Baron's ice prison. He had to keep an eye on it if he wanted to keep the Baron out of the fight. He created yet another wall. It was uneven and not very elegant, but it was there to slow the man down, so it did the job. Jack turned back towards Thor just in time to see a thunder-powered strike of the hammer coming his way.

"Oh, cr-"

He moved to the side, but not quickly enough. He managed to get an arm between the hammer and his face, but he was sent flying through the air, his vision blacking out for a few breathless and agonising seconds before he hit the ground. Pain like glass shards exploded in his lungs and arm. For a moment he couldn't move, and when it passed and he was blinking rapidly at the descending form of Thor Odinson. He raised his good hand, which was still reflexively clutched around his staff, and Thor was flung to the nearest building by an aggressive blast of frost-light. Jack struggled up into a sitting position and saw that the Baron's prison was again almost gone. He stood up gingerly and hissed through gritted teeth when he caught a glimpse of his arm. It wasn't supposed to bend that way. Or from that spot.

"Ouch," he said, "Oh, screw niceness. Heads up, you bastard!"

The Baron didn't even have time to smile under his hood in the moment between his prison shattering and a chunk of ice hitting him in the head so hard that he went down. He was hopefully unconscious. Jack had to check that once he got Thor off his back.

Speaking of Thor…

Jack turned to look for him again while doing his best to set his broken arm. Having to break it again later because of badly aligned bones would definitely suck. He narrowed his eyes when he felt the bones popping back to place and then freeze back together. There was no sign of Thor anymore. But he was still after Jack, right? He wouldn't just… oh, wait, there he was. Coming at him like a meteorite.

"This is really getting old."

Jack sidestepped the charge, and flipped out of the way to get more distance. He swung his staff, and a bunch of icicles nailed Thor in the wall. For about half a second. Thor stomped towards him again, and Jack bent his knees, ready to keep going.

When he saw a flash of gold over Thor's shoulder, he grinned.

"Oh, it's about time," he said under his breath.

Thor raised his hammer, but a ball of dreamsand hit him in the head. Then a bunch of sandy tendrils wrapped around his arms and brought him down. Sandy hovered in the air, looking a bit smugly at the downed thunder god.

"Man, I'm so glad to see you, Sandy!" Jack said as cheerfully as the situation allowed him, "What do you say we help Old Man Thunder sleep off the spell that Asgardian lady put on him?"

Forming another ball of sand in his hand, The Sandman nodded eagerly.

* * *

Amora really didn't like where this was going. Thor should have taken care of Frosti easily enough, but now he had been joined by the Guardian of Dreams. She had heard of the Sandman, and of his power. She could only hope the man's control over dreams and other lies of the mind didn't make it possible for him to overwrite her spell on Thor. The God of Thunder was already fighting it, and it took quite a lot out of Amora just to keep it up. But she wouldn't give up now. Not when she finally had the man she wanted under her thrall.

But she also had other things to worry about. Like Mother Nature, who clearly wasn't going to give up until she had banished Amora back to Asgard. It was frankly getting very irksome. Especially since it seemed that for all her inexperience in combat, Mother Nature quite frequently had the advantage. She was old and powerful, and she had the whole planet on her side. However… Amora glanced at the Baron, who was trying to get up after taking a chunk of ice to the head. The man was laughably out of his element, but he certainly had proven that the weapon he had created was a fearsome one. All it took was one shot…

Amora spun around and fought her way through the wild winds Mother Nature kept throwing at her. She sensed rather than saw Mother Nature following her as she teleported around the field in a seemingly random pattern. At one point she took note of Skurge, who was trying to make his way towards her through the throng of soldiers. Skurge met her eyes, and seemed to expect her to welcome him with open arms. Amora turned away. She had more important things to do now. Besides, now that she had Thor, Skurge was mostly just a nuisance.

She appeared next to the Baron, pulling him to his feet. Before Frosti had time to retaliate by imprisoning the man again, Thor attacked the boy with enough ferocity to make him forget about his duties as a prison guard for just enough time. Amora smiled at the Baron's frustrated expression and focused. In the blink of an eye, she had transported the Baron farther away from Frosti and the Sandman.

"Stay focused," she said, "And ready your weapon. I am about to give you a good target."

And then she was gone from the Baron's side, appearing in front of Mother Nature and engaging in fierce combat.

Just one shot. Just one moment of weakness was all she would need.

She glanced at the Baron, and then groaned internally out of frustration when she saw the Captain in ridiculous stars and stripes attacking the man. That would complicate things.

* * *

Steve finally reached the Baron. The briefings that had started flooding his ear as soon as the attack had started had prepared him to be extra wary of the Baron's gun. He rushed at the man, striking with his shield hand. The Baron barely had time to dodge, and even as he tried to get out of the way, Steve followed up with a punch that sent the man to the ground. Steve spun and downed a couple of soldiers with a thrown shield, and quickly glanced around the battlefield to make sure things were still under control. The enemy soldiers were quickly being subdued. It was a bit too early to tell for sure, but Steve was fairly confident that they could win this. The enemy was far less united than they were, and their attacks were getting more and more chaotic, frustrated and desperate. In the background, the Hulk was mowing down enemies faster than they could regroup, mostly while he chased down the other green man, and the Sandman alone could probably take on an entire army without breaking a sweat as well. Now the little man had piled a group of sleeping soldiers into a cage of sand, and was focused on obliterating the remaining shadow creatures with the help of his fellow Guardians.

Steve turned back to the Baron, who was cursing in German and struggling to get up.

"It's you, isn't it?" Steve said, "Heinrich Zemo. How are you still alive?"

The Baron huffed angrily. He raised his gun, but Steve was quicker, and knocked the man's hand aside.

"You weren't the only one who was a result of old experiments," The Baron spat, his hood creasing in a way that suggested he was frowning underneath it, "Though my experiments were very different in nature. And you weren't the only one who was discarded after a little failure."

Steve frowned back at the man. Was he talking about his time in ice? Probably. And what did he mean he had been discarded too?

"So what, you were one of HYDRA's projects?" he asked. The Baron growled as if mentioning HYDRA was poison to him.

"No! I was a scientist for them! A genius! But they left me to die and erased all my work after they had no more use to me! And now it's my time to finally get my revenge, after all this time."

Okay, that maybe explained things. But it still didn't make a whole lot of sense. Steve's frown deepened.

"By attacking S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

The Baron laughed sombrely, but didn't have time to say anything more before Steve saw a flash of magic coming his way. He jumped aside and saw the Enchantress standing near him, her green dress and blonde curls floating around her, making her look like a very dangerous queen. But behind her stood another queen, this one perhaps even more dangerous. Mother Nature charged at the Enchantress, but the woman turned suddenly, unleashing a vicious blast of energy that hit Mother Nature right in the chest and sent her to the ground. She grunted softly upon impact, and the Enchantress hit her in the back with yet another blast. Steve threw his shield, but the Enchantress threw up her hand and a shimmering force field surrounded her. The shield was knocked aside. Steve reached out with his hand to catch his weapon, and just as his fingers closed around the familiar edge, something hit him in the side with enough force to knock him down.

"There!" The Enchantress shouted, "Fire!"

Steve managed to get his head up despite his burning ribs and saw The Baron raising his hand. The Baron aimed his gun right at Mother Nature, who was struggling to get up from the ground. Steve opened his mouth to shout out a warning, but he didn't have time to actually make a sound. The Baron steadied his aim, and his finger settled on the trigger.

But before The Baron could actually shoot, he cried out, sounding oddly strangled. Steve blinked, and it took him a while to realize that the man was indeed being strangled. A strand of oily darkness had wrapped around the Baron's neck, and the man clawed at it with growing distress.

"What the-?"

The Baron's fortunately unfinished, choked up question was answered by a pair of furious yellow eyes in the shadows. The Baron was jerked backwards, away from Mother Nature and thrown against a wall so hard that he probably broke something. Many somethings. The crash resounded in the battlefield.

The Boogeyman stepped into the scene, deliberately slowly. The shadowy rope in his hand morphed into a large scythe.

"No," he said, his voice smooth and dangerous like silk doused in nitro-glycerine, "You _will not_ touch her!"

The man's grey face was almost emotionless, which was odd. When Steve had last seen Pitch Black, the man had been all Cheshire Cat grins and evil gloating. Now all the emotion had gone into his eyes, and Steve had to admit that the look in them was something he would _never _want directed at himself. If looks could kill, everyone around the Boogeyman would be dead by now.

Mother Nature got up with slightly unsteady legs and sent a chilling glare at the Boogeyman. But then, after a moment of contemplation, she sighed and stood next to him on the battlefield. Wind combined with shadows, lashing out and sending the Enchantress, the Baron, and almost Steve as well, into opposite directions.

Steve had no idea what had just happened, but he figured he should just play along until the situation had settled. He faced the remaining soldiers, whose morale seemed to have been drastically lowered now when the shadows themselves had turned against them.

* * *

Thor Odinson was in a haze. He was floating, and the eyes of his dear Amora looked at him in his mind. Loving, supporting, and only asking for his support and love in return. And Thor had no reason not to give those to her. She was perfect, after all. He would gladly take care of those who dared to try to lay a hand on her or stand in her way. Because…

Wait, what was he doing?

The thought passed through his mind quickly, usually followed by a flash of a woman's face. It wasn't Amora, so why should Thor care about that? He shook his head and focused again on Jokul Frosti and the Sandman, who tried to subdue him. He frowned. Jokul had always been a troublemaker, he knew. _Everyone _in Asgard knew it. But now he was going too far, and he would make sure Frosti would pay for it.

No, that wasn't right… was it?

A ball of sand hit Thor in the face, and Thor swung his hammer angrily to shake off the dizziness that threatened to invade his mind. They were fighting with dirty tricks, and he wouldn't stand for it. He was a prince of Asgard, after all.

"You should really snap out of it!" Frosti yelled, right before a chunk of ice was shot at Thor, "She's got you under a spell. Don't you get it already?"

The Sandman motioned towards young Frosti and formed a couple of images above his head. Perfect. Now he had an opening. Thor struck, and Frosti crashed against a nearby wall. Another strike was directed at the Sandman, who flew out of sight, holding his head. Thor turned towards Frosti, who was floating in the air, holding his side with his free hand.

"Okay, I got this…" he muttered, "Hey, Old Man! Sandy wanted to ask you something before you oh so nicely interrupted."

"I don't care," Thor said, "I do not have to listen to people who wish to harm Amora."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know that already, but really, what about your _real_ girlfriend?"

Thor narrowed his eyes. The woman faded in and out of his mind. Who was she?

"You know, Jane? That's her name, right?"

"No…" Thor said slowly, "Amora is… don't try to distract me with such cheap tricks!"

"Jane. Jane Foster," Frosti said, "You know, that's a nice name. Sure that doesn't ring any bells?"

Thor roared and raised his hammer. Before he could do anything with it, however, golden sand exploded in front of his face and rained down on him. It was followed by a snowball that made him smile.

His vision blackened for a moment, and in the middle of the blackness, the face came to view again. Brown hair, brilliant smile, and such warm eyes.

And this time, Thor remembered.

"Jane?" he whispered.

His vision returned, and he saw Jokul and the Sandman floating in front of him, watching him warily. Thor blinked. There was a battlefield around him. But when had that happened? Thor shook his head, trying to remember.

"So… what exactly happened here?" he asked uncertainly.

"You feeling okay?" Jokul asked, "No need to rant about any Amoras?"

Thor blinked.

"What? Who? Wait… Wasn't I supposed to… bring her to Asgard? What has _happened_ here?"

The Sandman scrutinised him with a frown, but then turned to Jokul and gave a thumbs-up. Jokul hit the air with his fist.

"Aaw, yeah, we got him!"

"You got me? Why?" Thor asked.

Jokul sobered quickly when something exploded nearby.

"Look, there's no time to explain. Let's just take care of the bad guys now. You think you can tell a friend from a foe again?"

Thor still wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew a battle when he saw it. He hefted his hammer.

"I can manage," he said. Then he let out a battle cry and descended upon the enemy soldiers.

* * *

Chen Lu knew that they were losing. He may not have been a military strategist, but he could easily tell what was going on. And when he saw Thor Odinson snapping out of the spell the Enchantress had put him under, he knew that things were pretty much hopeless. And then there was the matter of the Hulk, who kept attacking him with such strength and ferocity that even he had a hard time keeping up. His powers didn't seem to work on the green rage monster, which was really no surprise. As far as Chen Lu knew, the Hulk was also a product of some type of radiation, after all.

Their forces were becoming too disorganised. They scattered all around the battlefield, and most of them lay among the debris, dead or otherwise out of the fight. Chen Lu barely dodged the Hulk's next punch and backed away. This had been a bad idea. The plan should have been better, but the Baron had been so preoccupied by his childish, uncoordinated revenge that he had underestimated the enemy. And now they were losing. Badly.

Chen Lu wasn't about to go down with these clowns.

He charged up his radiation and prepared for an explosion. He'd wipe out _everyone_, and be on his way towards a better employment.

* * *

Tony Stark almost felt the radiation levels rising before his suit's computers started screeching about it. Numbers rushed across his vision, and he spun around in the air. He saw the Hulk fighting the other green man, who had started glowing in a very threatening way. It didn't take even a second for Tony to assess the situation as Not Good.

"Shit," he whispered, "That's a nuke, isn't it?"

_"__It is soon about to be," _said JARVIS, _"It seems he's gathering up enough energy to destroy the whole city."_

Tony cursed again and directed more power to building up speed. He had _really_ hoped he wouldn't have needed to start flying things out into hazardous places again. This time there weren't even any wormholes he could toss the man in.

He zeroed in on the glowing man, who evaded the Hulk's punches and kept glowing brighter. Now Tony started to fear what would happen if the man _didn't _dodge the Hulk's next punch. Would that be the thing that set off the bomb?

As he flew, he was joined by something golden and something freezing. He didn't need to look to know who they were.

"Hey, Sandman. Frost. A little backup?" he asked and hoped even Jack would realise now wasn't time for jokes or fun.

The answer came right away:

"What's the plan?"

No jokes. Good.

"We have to contain that guy. Any ideas?"

There were words written in sand in the air, but Tony didn't have time to read them. Jack was there to translate, however:

"Sandy can help. He used to be a star wrangler."

"Really? Awesome."

"I'll do my best to help too. We all will."

Tony narrowed his eyes when he saw the Hulk preparing another punch. This time The Radioactive Man had spread his arms, and he was glowing so brightly it almost blinded Tony.

"Take care of it," Tony said, "I'll make sure the Hulk doesn't blow that guy up."

He pressed his mouth into a thin line and braced for impact.

He hit the Hulk's side at top speed, and hoped he'd had had time to properly finish his Hulkbuster armour. Now it would have been _so _welcome. At least the impact drew the Hulk's attention to him and knocked him about a foot away from the glowing man.

"Sorry, buddy" Tony said through gritted teeth, "No time to explain."

The Hulk roared, and Tony was swept aside easily like an empty beer can. Before he could hit any walls, he was caught by a pair of fuzzy arms. The red-clad form of Santa Claus sprinted past him and lashed out at the Hulk with his sabre before the green man could get at Tony.

"Good work," said the Easter Bunny, helping Tony back up, "Sandy'll take care of it."

Tony watched as the Sandman wrapped the glowing man into tendrils of gold and started dragging him into the sky.

"Are you sure that's gonna be enough?" he asked.

The Easter Bunny crossed his arms. Behind him, Tony saw to his astonishment the Boogeyman fighting side by side with Rogers and Mother Nature. Together they brought down the Enchantress, who crashed to the ground in the tangle of winds and darkness.

"We have to hope so," the Easter Bunny said, "But hey, you see that stranger things have already happened."

Tony had to agree with that.

* * *

The star was too angry. Trying to destroy everything. About to explode. Sandy encased the star into a prison of dreamsand and flew up, up, up, until he was far above the buildings, and even above some of the layers in the atmosphere. The air became thinner, but the star didn't seem to even notice. It fought against the sand, some of its burning light tearing holes into the prison for a moment before Sandy could patch them up again. Sandy surrounded the star with more and more sand. He wasn't sure how much would be enough. This wasn't like an ordinary star.

Sandy felt the belief of others strengthen him. The star glowed even brighter, and it started to burn even Sandy. This was bad. There were too many people around. He needed to contain it all.

The burning intensified, but then, all of a sudden, it cooled down again. Sandy dared to look up for a second to see Jack's smiling face near him. The boy was glowing blue, his staff was raised, and he extended his free hand towards Sandy.

"Need some help?" he asked.

Sandy smiled and grabbed Jack's hand just when the star exploded.

The explosion shook the battlefield. The remaining people took cover the best they could. There was a lot of things to hide behind when most of the battlefield was now just a collection of craters and levelled buildings, but nothing to really shield anyone from a nuke. They could only hope that the light show that had now illuminated the sky with gold, white and blue would _stay _in the sky.

It started to rain golden sparks.

Even the Hulk was distracted, or then he was finally calmed down by the dreamsand that was raining down from the sky. It sure worked on North, at least. He shielded his eyes and scrambled through the battlefield to find Bunny. He saw Bunny standing near Mr. Stark, staring at the sky despite their suddenly sleepy eyes.

"Bunny?" he shouted, "Is that light what I think it is?"

Bunny glanced at him, his ears pressed against his head. His green eyes were dark with worry.

"If ya were thinking that's Sandy an' Jackie, then yeah."

The ball of light expanded and threatened to break apart, but there was a sphere of sand and frost-light around it, and it held together. Just barely. North put his hand on Bunny's shoulder.

"They will be alright," he said and sounded more convinced than he really was.

He couldn't doubt them. They needed all the belief they could get right now.

Bunny just nodded, keeping his eyes on the light. They would make it. Their family was too strong to break like this anymore.

The light flashed, for a moment too bright to look at. Then all became too silent for a few, eerie seconds.

* * *

Sandy was burning. A blast of overly focused nuclear radiation wasn't a pleasant experience even to an immortal spirit being. For a while, he actually blacked out. Then he was falling, and Jack and the Radioactive Man were falling too. With sleep threatening to overcome him, Sandy spread his arms and formed yet another sand prison around the now hopefully unconscious Radioactive Man. It would cushion the man's fall and keep his radiation in check. It seemed, however, that the man had used all of his power reserves for that one explosion, at least for a while.

Good.

Sandy's eyes threatened to slide shut, but he fought to stay awake and slow his own fall. He hit the ground with a solid thud and lay there, burning until something icy soothed the pain again. Sandy blinked and saw the rather charred face of Jack Frost above him. Sandy smiled and sat up. Jack's exhausted smile mirrored his. Somewhere in the background, North and Bunnymund were calling out and running towards them.

"We sure showed him, huh?" Jack said in a quiet, hoarse voice.

_We sure did_, Sandy mimed.

Jack grinned even wider and let out a small laugh before he passed out.

* * *

And with that, it was over. The remaining enemy soldiers were rounded up and imprisoned. The Asgardians were given to Thor and a small army of agents, who would guard them until Thor could properly take them to Asgard. The Radioactive Man was kept in his sand cell until S.H.I.E.L.D. could prepare a proper, special cell for him. The Hulk blinked the calm and sleep from his eyes and saw Natasha Romanoff standing in front of him. She reached out with her hand, and when it brushed the Hulk's palm, the last of his rage seemed to evaporate.

There was a small moment of triumph, but no one could really enjoy it. Everyone was too battered and too exhausted. The Guardians had gathered into a small tangle of hugs, and were trying to patch each other up. Their little family looked far too small, even though it was only short one member. The remaining agents tried to make sense of who was still alive and who wasn't. The Avengers tried their best to help and to keep up the morale despite their own exhaustion.

And there, in the middle of the exhaustion and quiet mourning of those who had been lost, the Avengers witnessed one more bizarre display of family ties.

Not that they knew what exactly they were looking at.

It was Tony Stark who noticed it first. The sight of Mother Nature and the Boogeyman standing at the side, invisible to most of the remaining people, and with almost visible awkward tension between them. Tony didn't know what to make of it.

Mother Nature wiped some invisible dust from her robes and looked at the spot where the Enchantress and the Baron had stood before their fight. Her eyes were stormy. Literally. Tony had to shut up his mind that had suddenly started making bad puns about the eye of the storm. Maybe the hits he had taken in the fight had damaged his standards.

"Well, it should all be over now," she said quietly, "You all… did well."

Pitch Black looked at Mother Nature with what Tony could almost describe as 'worry'. There was something seriously wrong with this situation.

"It seems like it," he said, "Are you okay?"

Mother Nature looked at the Boogeyman very coldly.

"I don't require your concern or your help."

"Of course not. I wasn't planning on sticking around anyway," Pitch glanced at Tony and Steve, who now stood as a guard near the subdued Baron, "Not when this place is full of people who probably have a cell ready for me. Not to mention the Guardians."

He smiled. His smiles were never friendly.

"Besides, right now the best thing I can do is just wait and see what happens."

"Then why did you get involved in the first place?" Tony couldn't help asking, "And now you just decided to help us? What's your angle?"

Pitch snorted.

"Does it matter? You could be a little more grateful."

"After what happened in New York? No."

"I thought so," Pitch sighed theatrically, "Perhaps I should be grateful to you then. Your post-traumatic stress is very nourishing. Well, have fun sorting this all out, then."

Tony stepped forward when Pitch made a move to melt back into the shadows.

"You think you can just go back into hiding?"

Pitch stopped and spun around, casting a very dangerous look at Tony.

"What? Are _you_ going to stop me, Stark?"

As much as Tony hated to admit it, Pitch was right in sounding condescending. Right now, Tony had no means of catching the man should he hide into the darkness. Pitch could become one with shadows, which meant he was simply lack of light. Try imprisoning that. Besides, Pitch _had _just helped them, even though his reasons for it completely escaped Tony. Pitch smirked when Tony's silence was enough of an answer for him and turned away again.

"Take care, Emily Jane."

Mother Nature didn't answer. Her hands were clenched into fists and Tony could feel the temperature fluctuating around her. Indecisive, just like she apparently was. Pitch disappeared, and the heavy, foreboding atmosphere was lifted just like that. Tony cleared his throat.

"Okay, I'm not pretending to understand what the hell is going on, but shouldn't we get back to helping the others? There's plenty of stuff to clean up."

Mother Nature sighed.

"You will help them. I... I did not wish a fight in the first place. I let my temper get the best of me. I don't want to get further involved if I can help it. I got my message across and I sent those two to Mr. Odinson. He promised to take them away."

Before Tony could protest, Mother Nature rose into the air and, with a blast of a fierce wind, was gone.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"These guys are weird."

He was perfectly aware of the hypocrisy of that statement.

* * *

Nick Fury looked at the Baron with both fascination and distaste. This man had really just wanted to attack them, and had even caused quite a lot of damage in the process. And why? That was the big question. There had to be a motive. Very few people would work so hard and create such a convoluted plan simply for kicks. Fury crossed his arms.

"So," he said, "Baron Heinrich Zemo."

The Baron tried to sit up better with his hands bound. He actually tried to look intimidating, but it didn't really work when he had been disarmed and so thoroughly defeated. Without waiting for any pointless taunts from the Baron, Fury went on:

"You caused a hell of a lot of damage. Want to tell me why?"

The Baron glared at him defiantly through his hood.

"Why should I?" he hissed, "You were simply in the way of my revenge… you _were _my revenge."

That still didn't make any sense. Fury frowned.

"Care to elaborate?"

The Baron laughed quietly. His laughter died, however, when a bang resounded through the air. Fury spun around, a gun in hand, and next to him, Rogers and Stark tensed. The shot had come from afar, and it had hit the Baron right in the head. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

* * *

**Author's Note: THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I THOUGHT! Sorry! I admit, my motivation for this hasn't been the best lately. This chapter just felt more like a chore than anything, because there was SO MANY things to keep track of and to give screentime to. And after killing Tooth, there wasn't much I could do to top that. And yeah, that was sort of supposed to be the most poignant moment anyway, but still, the fight had to go on a bit longer.**

**I'm also not very up to date with the Marvel films, so if some of these villains have now shown up in the films, then that sucks for me, because my attempt to stay in canon as much as possible is now ruined. But hey, it was bound to happen someday, and it's fanfiction so whatever, I guess.**

**Anyway, there's only one or two chapters left, depending on how long I want to make sorting out the battle, I guess.**

**Thank you so much for sticking with me!**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**SilverSkies1524: Yay, I'm glad I managed to take you by surprise and make an impression! Thanks for reading!**

**Fumus000: I'm glad you found this! And I'm glad you like my writing! :)**

**Guest: I thought I mentioned his mask? I could remember wrong. Still, it ****_is _****a really cool mask.**


	15. The Most Powerful Spell

**15\. The Most Powerful Spell**

The Taskmaster watched with some professional satisfaction when the Baron slumped over because of a perfect shot to the head. He lowered his sniper rifle and stood up, turning around to leave his sniper's perch and the battlefield in general.

The Baron could consider this the Taskmaster's resignation.

It wasn't enough that he had been abandoned after one gig gone wrong. But now the Baron had also killed what had held his contract with the Guardians together. Without the Tooth Fairy, the small hope he had harboured for actually remembering something other than his training was gone.

It was irritating. Disappointing. Maybe even depressing.

Well, there were plenty of more employers in the world. More work and more money for him.

Someone always wanted someone else dead. The world was full of opportunities for a skilled assassin.

By the time a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents reached the spot the Taskmaster had shot the Baron from, he was already long gone.

* * *

Pitch Black walked through the shadows and called his remaining Fearlings and Nightmares to him. There weren't many left, and Pitch could only hope that the strength he had managed to get from the fear and paranoia around him was worth it. Well, at least it had been fun, for the most part.

He passed by corpses and debris. He walked through people who were trying to patch things back together. He stopped by his allies, all of whom were dead or detained. He gave them a sharp-toothed smirk from his hiding place, and moved on.

Yes, it had been a fun diversion. If a surprisingly draining one. He'd need much more rest to be functional again. But at least he wasn't starving.

He stopped again when he saw the Asgardians. The foolish, love-struck man who still stood by the woman's side. The woman, who had given the order that could have led to Emily Jane's doom. White-hot rage flared inside Pitch. He should have just killed her. But he knew he was still too weak to destroy an Asgardian. He walked by them, materialised only for a second to whisper to the Executioner:

"You did see how she abandoned you right after she had Thor under her spell, didn't you?"

The Executioner growled, but before he could even see Pitch, Pitch was already gone, melted into the shadows again. He fled the battlefield, not nearly as disappointed or angry as he would have expected himself to be.

If all went well, the Asgardians would eventually tear each other apart and save him the trouble.

His grin lingered in the darkness before he fully retreated into his domain.

* * *

_Cold. Dark._

_But the Man in the Moon is with me._

_Tsar Lunar, my old friend…_

_I promise I will save him…_

Jack groaned and managed to climb back into the waking world. He was immediately surrounded by the worried faces of North, Bunny, and Sandy. Jack blinked, trying to remember what he had been dreaming about. Or remembering. But it all slipped away. His fingers brushed the tooth box in his pocket while he checked that the ice cube that held Baby Tooth was still intact. The tooth box felt… emptier. Like it wouldn't work even if he tried. Maybe because they needed Tooth back before they could work.

Jack blinked again, a tear running down his cheek, stinging. He wiped it away and gasped when he felt ash and scar tissue on his cheek.

_Oh, right. The nuke._

He pressed his cold hands to his face and let himself heal. The already mostly healed scars were wiped completely away by strands of frost.

Jack opened his eyes again and managed a grin.

"Hey, guys. That was some fireworks alright. You okay?"

North and Bunny seemed to be perfectly fine. Sandy looked much more tired than usually. His hair was still singed and he seemed to be feeling ill. But he gave Jack a thumbs-up, so Jack figured Sandy would be okay too.

"And you?" asked North, "You were burned badly."

Jack took a hold of his charred staff and focused until the burns were gone.

"I'm fine. A little bit of nuclear fire isn't enough to keep me down."

To demonstrate his point, he got up to his feet. The world spun, and he felt like he wanted to dig himself into a snowdrift and sleep for a week, but he managed to stay on his feet. He took a moment to regain his bearings, and then sighed at the destruction around them.

"So… it's over now, huh?" he asked.

"We hope so," Bunny said.

"It _is _over," said the stern voice of Nick Fury. The man with an eye patch and nerves of steel walked to the Guardians and crossed his arms, "The Taskmaster and the Boogeyman escaped, but otherwise we've rounded up the surviving members of the enemy force. S.H.I.E.L.D. can detain them. We can set up specialised cells quickly."

"That is good to hear," said North, "So… this was quite a mess, no?"

"It was, but it's our job to clean up messes like this," Fury frowned, "We appreciate the assistance."

"Good to hear," Bunny said darkly, "An' condolences 'cause of everyone who was lost."

Fury nodded stiffly and then looked to the side. Steve Rogers had appeared behind the man's shoulder, and he looked at the Guardians worriedly.

"Good to see you're okay," Steve said, "Well… aside from… I'm sorry about the Tooth Fairy."

Sandy created a few half-hearted sand images above his head. Bunny nodded.

"Sandy's right. We're not giving up on her yet. But thanks."

"So you're saying you can bring her back?" Fury asked.

"Yes," North said.

"You sound sure about that."

"Of course," North said almost lightly, "If one is not sure, it won't work. Simple, really."

"You don't need to worry," Jack chimed in, "We've got people who can help us with this. But in case some of you want to lend a hand after you're done here, we'd appreciate it."

The other Guardians glanced at Jack in surprise. Steve smiled.

"I can help. After this is done. And I have a feeling Stark might want to see this too, at least."

Jack just grinned. It helped him to stay positive when Tooth's death still kept weighing him down. Baby Tooth's body felt heavy and too cold in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Awesome! They'll be so hyped to meet you!"

Steve frowned.

"Who?"

* * *

It was a lovely, fresh October weather in Burgess that weekend. The leaves were crisp with frost that had sneaked over them during the night. But now it was melting, at least before a pair of bare feet touched down in a park in the centre of the town.

Jack looked around, hoping that the kids would already be there. He heard North's sleigh landing not-so-gently near the swing set at the corner of the park. The Guardians and a couple of the Avengers jumped out. Tony Stark dusted off his suit and walked to stand beside Jack. The man looked around, a slightly sceptical expression on his face.

"This is where your necromancy session is going to take place?" he asked.

"Yup," Jack said, "It's not really necromancy, though. Just a simple spell."

It had taken them a week to recover and for S.H.I.E.L.D. to clean up the mess enough so that the mysterious fight was becoming forgotten in the eyes of the random bystanders. During that time, Sandy had made sure that tons of dreams had featured a certain lovely fairy queen. And the Guardians had been busy trying to keep Tooth's work going. It had been hard without Tooth instructing them, but Jack liked to think they had managed.

There was enough belief floating around. Now it just needed the final nudge.

"Where are kids?" North asked, looking around worriedly, "They did get message, no?"

"I'm sure they'll be here," Bunny said, "We'll just wait for a bit."

Stever Rogers frowned. He was dressed in his Captain America suit. It had taken quite a bit of convincing, and some hiding from Fury to get the Cap actually do that. It was worth it, though. The kids would be starstruck for sure.

"So… who are we waiting for again?" he asked.

"Friends," Jack said, "They… hey, I think they're coming."

And sure enough, there was faint chatter and laughter in the air, followed by footsteps that crunched on the frosty leaves. A group of kids came to view from behind a small hill. They had all come together. Jack smiled and waved at them with both hands.

"Heeeeeeyyyyy guys!"

Jamie Bennett was the first to see him. Of course he was. He took his little sister Sophie by the arm and led her and the rest of the kids to the Guardians. He almost jumped at Jack, who hugged him as a greeting.

"It's so great to see you guys," he laughed. Behind him, Sophie immediately hopped over to Bunny, whose occasional ice king act always defrosted at the sight of the adorable little girl. North greeted the kids with a hearty laugh and a gentle bear hug, and Sandy floated down to give everyone handshakes and hugs as well. After the greetings were done, Jack motioned towards Steve and Tony like an artist unveiling his greatest masterpiece.

"And this, everyone, is a couple of guys, whom you may know…"

"No way!" said Monty, adjusting his glasses, "That's Captain America."

"And Iron Man without the suit," Jack said, grinning at Tony, who still looked rather incredulous about the whole thing, "Gentlemen, these are some of our friends: Jamie, Sophie, Monty, Claude, Caleb, Pippa, and Cupcake."

"Cupcake?" Tony repeated dryly. The tall girl glared at him, and then proceeded to ignore him in favour of excitedly asking Captain America for an autograph.

The kids swarmed the two superheroes, until Jamie suddenly froze and turned around to face the Guardians again.

"Wait… where's Tooth?"

The Guardians' smiles were gone in an instant.

"That is why we called," North said quietly, "Something… happened."

The kids' faces instantly fell.

"Was it… Pitch?" asked Claude.

"There was a fight," Bunny explained, "Tooth… protected people."

"But she got hit pretty badly," Jack said. Slowly, he took Baby Tooth's frozen body from his pocket and set it on the ground. The kids gasped. Tony muttered something about showing corpses to kids.

"She needs your help now," North said, "You know what to do."

Jamie looked at them, and his brown eyes hardened. He was older than before. But he was still the same kid who believed in wonders and magic and fun. He nodded.

"Yeah. Right, guys?"

The other kids nodded vigorously. Even Sophie, who was now reaching that age where belief became an actual issue. Until recently, she had been too young to even understand that some things would have to be believed in.

The kids gathered around Baby Tooth's body. They glanced at each other, and then at the Guardians. The Guardians took their places in the circle. North looked at Steve and Tony.

"Come along, now," he said, "We could use all help we can get."

Hesitantly, the men joined the circle, clearly having no clue about what would happen next.

_It's very easy, don't worry, _Sandy mimed. Jack wasn't sure if the men understood.

It was Cupcake who said it first. The most powerful spell:

"I believe."

"I believe," said Jamie.

The other kids joined in, as did the Guardians. And maybe even Tony and Steve, albeit with confused looks on their faces.

To the outsider, it might have looked like a bizarre children's imaginary sermon.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was that it worked.

Slowly, Baby Tooth started glowing. Jack quickly dispersed the ice around her, but stayed ready in case she would start falling apart again. Her body stayed intact, though, and it glowed for a while before the glow dimmed again.

All became quiet.

Then they began chanting again.

"I believe, I believe, I believe."

Baby Tooth's eyelids fluttered. She slowly opened her eyes, and let out a small, weak chirp.

Jack let out a relieved sigh.

Feathers started falling from the sky. After a while they became fairies, who floated down gently and joined Baby Tooth.

Jamie, who was standing right next to Jack, squeezed Jack's hand.

The tiny tooth fairies blinked owlishly in the gentle October light. Then they too joined hands, and merged.

"Well, I'll be damned," Tony whispered.

Amidst the glow of feathers and light, the familiar shape of Tooth began to form. Her slender arms spread experimentally, her wings started fluttering as they regained their shape and translucent texture. More feathers grew until she looked the same she had always looked. Her eyes opened slowly, and she took her first breath.

And that was when her powers started working again.

* * *

People all over the world started remembering something dear they had forgotten. A girl took out a stuffed teddy bear she hadn't looked at in a long time. A teenaged boy remembered how much fun he'd had while biking down a grassy hill with his friends. A man dug out the picture of his estranged mother.

And far away from Burgess, the Taskmaster shuddered when a memory popped into his head. Then another. And another. A name. Faces. Places. And…

"I have a wife?" he whispered to himself.

He looked into the horizon, quickly wrote down what he remembered. Something told him that he should have known what the sudden moment of remembrance had been caused. But he couldn't remember. Oh, well, that didn't matter.

Because he had a life to catch up with before he forgot it again.

* * *

_Cold. Dark._

_But the Man in the Moon is with me._

_Tsar Lunar, my old friend…_

_I promise I will save him._

_The boy is so much like me. So happy. Full of joy. A child at heart. Maybe forever._

_I think I understand him better than I understand anyone else. Especially now that Katherine is gone…_

_He too is a Guardian._

_I will help him._

_I promise._

_…_

_Goodbye, my friend._

Jack's eyes snapped open. Had he closed them at some point? He had to have. When Tooth had opened her eyes and the memories had flooded his head. They were still disjointed and in pieces, but at least… there was something that made sense now. He breathed in a choked breath like he was breathing for the first time. Tears he didn't notice filled his eyes. He understood now. How the Man in the Moon had brought him back. Why he hadn't done it more. It was because he _couldn't_. And he shouldn't.

"Nightlight," Jack whispered.

"Nightlight?" Tooth repeated, and Jack realised her smiling face was right in front of her. She seemed to be fine. As radiant as ever, "Are you okay, Jack?"

Jack burst into laughter and wrapped his arms around Tooth. The rest of the Guardians joined him in a relieved group hug. The kids cheered in the background.

The Guardians didn't let go for a long moment.

They were complete again.

Their family had been fixed.

* * *

Bruce Banner listened to the calming music flooding his ears through headphones. It was nice. It made his worries and most of all, his anger dissipate. Slowly. But steadily.

It was just a start. But it was working.

He opened his eyes and looked at Natasha Romanoff, who gave him a rare real smile.

"Well?" she asked.

"I think we're getting somewhere here," Bruce said.

He thought about it.

"Still needs some work, though."

He opened his hand and let Natasha take it. That too calmed him down somehow.

* * *

Outside, it was windy. Emily Jane Pitchiner walked past the secret testing facility, and stopped to glance inside through all the security systems. The green monster was being tamed. Something so uncontrollable and all-consuming was on its way to perhaps being controlled after all.

Emily Jane pursed her lips in annoyance. She thought about the battle where Pitch Black had jumped in to defend her without hesitation, and without questions. It had to have been some ancient, deeply-rooted reflex. Nothing more. Unlike Banner, Pitch Black couldn't be saved. He had been that way for far too long. Now the small glimpses of what had once been were just painful.

Emily Jane clenched her hands into fists. It was so much easier to keep up the hate and indifference than to try conjuring up false hope. She idly wondered where her father was now. It lasted only for a moment, but then she was focusing on her work again. The Asgardians were gone for now, but she had a feeling something worse was coming.

And she would be ready for it.

* * *

Nick Fury took a short break from his work to stretch his arms. Why did all the crises have to end with so much paperwork? And crises like this, where Fury didn't feel like he had enough answers to properly assess the situation were the worst. Why had the Baron attacked? Why had he targeted S.H.I.E.L.D.? It seemed like the Baron had some grudges towards HYDRA, but that didn't answer any questions. HYDRA was a long-dead organisation. What would attacking another, unconnected group solve?

Fury narrowed his good eye. It could be that the Baron had simply been crazy, and that he had chosen his target either randomly or just because he had had bigger plans after taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. Still, he had a feeling he should conduct some research into his own group. And to prepare for anything. So nothing new there.

There was also the matter of the Asgardians, and the Radioactive Man. Thor had taken the Asgardians away, but that didn't mean more couldn't come through. Mother Nature had apparently been worried that just that would happen. Would Earth have to face more and more intergalactic and interdimensional threats? That was likely. Fury would have to find even more people he could recruit into the Avengers. And he needed to triple-check that the tailor-made cell for the Radioactive Man would work in the long run. At least for now it seemed to keep the man and his powers contained.

There was always a lot of work to do.

* * *

Clint Barton breathed in the air at the yard of his secret home. It smelled fresher than he remembered. He could almost feel the warmth of home-cooked food in it. It had been a rough couple of weeks after the whole mess with the Baron and his little team of supervillains. But now it was all calming down, and Clint finally had time to visit his family again.

He brushed some stray dirt from his sleeve and then turned to look at the tall, furry form of the Easter Bunny.

"Thanks for taking me here," he said, "I could've just taken a copter or something but…"

"I happened to be around," Bunnymund said, "It's no problem. My tunnels are much faster, and you don't want to keep the ankle biters waiting. I get it."

Clint nodded.

"Thanks again."

"Sure. Don't mention it. And if ya happen to be here around Easter, ya should take the ankle biters for an egg hunt. There might be some eggs even here then."

Bunnymund actually smiled at that. Clint couldn't help but uncertainly smile back.

"I'll keep that in mind. And you Guardians won't tell anyone about this, right? Not even the other Avengers?"

"Of course not," Bunnymund said, "Part of our job, remember? Now go. I bet the ankle biters'll be really happy to know you're back."

The giant bunny waved, and Clint turned his back on him after a wave of his own. When he was on his way across his yard, he heard the sound of earth shifting, and didn't need to look back to know that Bunnymund was gone.

The front door of his home opened, and the excited steps of children greeted Clint. Clint smiled and took his family into his arms.

* * *

Toothiana looked at the rows of tooth boxes as she fluttered through the corridors filled with them. Everything seemed to be in order. She had been afraid that her short absence had made her palace falter again. But no, everything seemed to be where she had left it. The other Guardians had made sure that the children had kept believing while she had recovered in the… in the dark.

She didn't want to think about it. Being taken apart hadn't been a fun experience. She would distract herself by focusing on work and comfort herself with the knowledge that the battle was over. For now.

She stopped when she reached a specific row of tooth boxes and summoned a box into her hand. It belonged to the Taskmaster. Tooth traced her hand on the box's lid and focused. It seemed that she had unwittingly made the man remember back when she had been restored. Perhaps the memories would stick for long enough for the man to start turning his life around.

Or perhaps not; Tooth liked to be optimistic, but even she had to admit that there was something very amoral about the Taskmaster. Still, maybe being reminded of his life every once in a while would do the man some good. Even though the memories would fade under the flood of survival skills and fighting. Even now, the Guardians were completely fading from the man's mind. That, at least, was probably for the best.

Tooth laid the box back in its place and made a mental note to help the Taskmaster remember when he needed it the most. She had promised, after all.

* * *

Nicholas St. North crashed into his favourite armchair. It was good to be back home. And to be able to take a break every once in a while. His factory had run perfectly while he had been absent, thanks to the yetis and despite the elves, but North still had his hands full with work. It was too close to Christmas for these kinds of delays.

Well, at least it had been taken care of. And at least Thor had taken away that awful Bloodaxe. North was busy enough without any extra guard duties. And Tooth was fine – thank the Moon – and so was everyone else. Everyone was back home, and getting back to their usual work. And so should-

"North?"

North straightened his posture a little bit when Jack peeked through the door to the room. The boy looked uncharacteristically sombre. North frowned

"What is matter, Jack?"

Jack shrugged, and slipped through the ajar door.

"Nothing," he said, "Well… no. It's something. I just…"

He fell silent. North knew the boy well enough to know something was _really_ bothering him. North patted the armrest of his chair, and Jack hesitated before coming a bit closer to it. He didn't sit down, though, but North hadn't really expected it either.

"I know I should be telling this to Tooth first…" he started after a long, awkward silence, "But she's busy and still recovering, and I didn't want to bother her. And besides, I…"

He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. Anyway, you remember Stark bugging me about the whole resurrection-thing?"

"Yes," North said, remembering what Jack had said when Tooth had been brought back, and getting a feeling that he knew where this was going.

"Well, I asked Baby Tooth to bring me my tooth box, and she did. I tried to remember things… you know, something to shut Tony up. And I started getting these flashbacks that didn't make a whole lot of sense, but then Tooth was brought back, and…"

He took a deep breath.

"IthinkI'mNightlight," he finally said.

North blinked. Then he blinked again. Yes, he had expected something like this… for Jack to have some knowledge of the lost Guardian. And North thought about the ways the boy resembled Nightlight. The fun-loving personality of an eternal child, the white hair, even the frost-light the boy could cast. It made a lot of sense, in a rather tragic way. North didn't say anything, though. Jack wasn't done talking, he knew.

"So… I know it sounds crazy," Jack said slowly, "But I feel like… maybe Nightlight was there when I died, helping the Man in the Moon to bring me back. But that he somehow became me… or I became him."

He hugged himself, now letting his legs fail him, and slumped onto the armrest.

"Am I really me at all?" he whispered.

North felt his throat constrict. The poor boy had been worried about _that_? It had already been days after Tooth had woken up. North didn't dare to think how long Jack would have tried to figure things alone if he hadn't found his place among the Guardians.

He put his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Of course you are," he said gently, and when Jack opened his mouth to speak, North silenced him by raising a hand, "Maybe Nightlight did help Manny save you. Maybe there _is_ something of him there. But you and he are not the same."

Jack traced the edge of the armrest with his finger. Frost curled around the fabric.

"But I was just… Jack before I was brought back. And… someone had to _die_ so I could be here."

North squeezed the boy's shoulder.

"I'm sure he knew what he was doing," he said, "Sometimes sacrifices are needed. You know that."

Jack nodded, still not looking up.

"Jack and Nightlight are gone now," North said, "But you are here. Is like making a something new out of old parts. Something different, but great."

Finally, Jack looked up at North, bright blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You think he'd be… happy with me? That they'd be okay with what they had to die for?"

North smiled.

"I _know _they would be, son."

* * *

Tony Stark really couldn't be surprised anymore when a selectively invisible teenager knocked on his window. That probably was a sign that his life had gone somewhere strange. Although maybe the robot suits and the arc reactors and aliens had already proven that. He was actually more surprised that he'd let Frost in without much hesitation. Maybe seeing a fairy resurrected in front of his eyes made him want to actually talk about things. Unfortunately they were things Frost didn't usually want to talk about. Now that Tony thought about it, he could understand. He didn't want to talk much about the wormhole he'd once flown into and almost died in either.

"So, what's it this time?" Tony asked when Frost had settled on one of his favourite place to stand on: objects that weren't meant to be stood on. This time it was one of Tony's more old-fashioned flat computer screens.

"What do you mean?" Frost asked, "You think I'm here to see you just because something's up?"

"You usually do. Or is this one of those amateur psychologist visits?"

Jack Frost jumped down from the computer screen.

"You do realise you just used 'psychologist' to refer to _me_?"

Tony shrugged.

"I also called you an amateur. So, what do you want?"

Jack shifted his weight, suddenly looking almost nervous. Almost his age too.

"Well, I came here to bury some hatchets," he said after a nervous pause.

Tony raised a brow. Jack slung his staff over his shoulders and tried to look carefree again. The image was somewhat ruined by the serious look in his eyes.

"I get it," Jack said, "Immortality, bringing people from the dead… it's all really cool and all. Tempting and stuff. Especially with your hero complex."

"Hey! Tha-"

"_What I'm saying is_," Jack raised a hand and to Tony's surprise, that actually shut him up. Maybe it was because the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, "That I'm not angry at you."

Tony nodded slowly.

"Oh, good. It's nice to know the harbinger of winter doesn't hate me. That probably also means less exploding pipes and all."

"Hey, I never said I hated you!" Jack smiled, "That's such a strong word. Sure, I hate some things. Like suffering, needless violence, global warming, and shoes… but _you_? No way."

He thought about it for a second.

"But I do want an apology. Because you did act like an ass."

Tony sighed.

"Okay. Sorry."

They were quiet for a moment. It was an almost companionable silence.

"You know…" Jack said then, "I finally know how the Man in the Moon brought me back."

Tony's eyebrows shot up.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. It's not going to be very helpful, though. I was brought back because another spirit helped him… at the cost of his own life."

"Oh… wow. That sucks."

"Yeah. It does."

More silence.

"So… you're okay with that?"

Jack nodded.

"The others helped me deal with it. I just… I'd just really want you to drop it. There are plenty of other ways to save people."

Tony thought about his other projects. More suits. More security systems. Ultron…

"Yeah, I guess so. But are you sure it's… the only way?"

Jack looked at him, and something flashed in his icy eyes. Annoyance? Worry? Or maybe it was just a memory.

* * *

_His heart is not beating when my spirit merges with him. I will it to start again._

_I believe it can._

_I believe._

_I believe._

_I feel parts of me slipping away._

_I know this is the last thing I will ever do._

_Jack, you have to live._

_We… I… have to live._

_His heart beats again, sluggish but alive. The Man in the Moon calls out to us._

_He will not be the same, because I am here. And I and he will get mixed up and create something new. Someone from the cold and dark around us… mix it with light and laughter. I hope so at least._

_It is the last thing I hope._

_And believe. _

_His eyes – my eyes – open, and we break into the surface… breathe in my last and first breath._

_I see the Moon, and I know it will keep me safe._

_I just don't remember exactly why it's so comforting._

_The Man in the Moon speaks to me, then. Tells me my name._

**_Jack Frost_**_._

_Yes. That's me._

_That's the first thing I remember._

Nightlight slept. Then he disappeared into the new-born young man. Over three hundred years into the future, Jack Frost remembered him a little bit more. And smiled.

"Just trust me on this," he said, "Some things are better left alone."

Then he was gone in a gust of wind. Tony Stark was left behind, and Jack could only hope that everything would turn out fine.

At least for a while.

After all, everything being _too _fine would get boring, right? And Jack Frost hated boredom.

He let out a laugh and let the wind take him home.

* * *

**Author's Note: Aaaaaaand… it's done! Just in time before my school starts again. Tooth's back! Yay! Like I'd really permanently kill off canonically surviving characters in a fanfiction. That's just not my style. And here's also my weird attempt of further tying the film and book AND picture book –canons of the Guardians together. So yeah, I think I bended the canon a bit more than I usually would, but I guess it's not that bad. I mean, in this fanfic, Jack did still die and he was still a normal kid, and MiM brought him back, but I just added the bit about Nightlight helping him and merging with Jack. For those who don't know, in the picture books, Nightlight and Jack Frost are the same person. Nightlight turns from a light spirit into the spirit of nature and forgets about his previous life after he falls into a lake after battling Pitch, and then turns cold because he longs for his old life he can't remember and feels lonely.**

**So, I'm going to have to say that this story was… messy to write. It was in many ways even more ambitious than the first one, because there the plot was much more straightforward. Here I added a lot of character stuff and tried to put a lot of different characters to work together. I also had to do a lot of research to get the villains at least a little bit right, and when you think about it the end result is kind of plotless, but I'm more of a character writer anyway so it's no surprise. Still, I'm trying to better my plotting skills all the time.**

**Thank you all who have read, commented, or just given this a passing glance. I know that without your support, I would never have even started doing this. You're awesome and your comments have helped me so much. And some of you even helped me plan this with suggesting villains and all! So thank you so much!**

**As for the future of my fanfic-writing… again, I have no idea. It seems I keep getting ideas every once in a while. I kind of want to go back to writing RotG -oneshots or something because I really feel at home in the RotG/Guardians of Childhood -universe. But at the moment, I don't have ideas for it. If I do, I'm going to do some writing. So you never know. And this time I'm not going to say for certain that there will be no sequels for this, because as you can see, you never know. But I do have to say that I'm really behind in watching the films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and to be honest, I'm not even that interested in the newer films. I did like ****_Ant-Man_****. That was fun. So like I said, you never know…**

**But without any further rambling, I'm going to say one more thank you, and good bye! See you all later, maybe!**


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